Allergies
by WeepingAngel123
Summary: Post Journey's End. Rose Tyler: 23, human and sick of the Universe. Quite ;iterally. The Doctor: 905, Time Lord and a lonely traveller. Follow their story, as they battle against completely different things all for the one same purpose - to be together
1. Secrets

**Author's Notes:**

**I'll be writing this story along side The Immortal Ones, so updates will be on a strange... kind of basis. Anyway, in my mind, The Doctor (Not the dupe.) will eventually come into this story, but not now. His Dark Materials trilogy inspired me on this, especially Will's father. **

**This has now been beta-ed by the ever wonderful sonicthecat7!!! She's a star!!!! =) Any other mistakes are my own.  
**

**Please review and let me know what you think, because I want to know if I should continue or not!!**

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_10:00am, 15TH june, Union Hospital, London, Parallel Universe_

Silently, I watched from my bed as Mum, _the Other Doctor_ (I couldn't bring myself to call him Doctor), Jake and Tony, who was hovering nearby, talked quietly to the medical doctor. Whisper, whisper, whisper. The Other Doctor raised his voice vaguely and looked rather angry, but Jake nudged his head at me and thus, they continued talking in low voices. Every now and again they stole awkward sideway glances at me, which I alays returned with a meek grin. Once, I caught Jake's eye so I decided to loosen up my boredom and live a little. I smiled, gestured an innocent waggle of fingers, mimed listening to their conversation with a gesture of hands and ears - then shrugged. Jake then slammed the door shut on me. Oh, he was dead polite wasn't he?! I breathed hot air up my need-to-be-cut-very-soon fringe; this was boring. A sudden pain stung my upper chest, and I remembered why...

They _always_ did that; always talked about _me _in private. What was the point of hiding it all from me? I flipping well knew that I was terminally sick. I wasn't stupid enough not to know my own illness. Didn't I even have a right to know what was going on anymore? I looked around my room, taking in the annoying cleanliness. White, white and oh... more white. My fingers twiddled with the silver key that was on a piece of string around my neck. It had been there for about three years now and I never dared to take it off just in case _he_ came.

The whispering eventually ceased and they all stepped into the room. The doctor checked my charts, nodded at me and left the room.

"How are you today, sweetheart?" Mum asked, taking my hand.

"I'm feeling fine! Honestly," I said, forcing a smile; I couldn't stand to see Mum upset. "The pain isn't so bad now."

"Oh, Rose, I wish you'd just tell me how you _really_ are! I always feel so bad when I look at you and you never tell me what's going on inside that head of yours..." Mum sighed.

She didn't need to know what was going on in my head; she didn't want to feel the fire burn through me. _She didn't._

So I lied. "Mum I'm being serious, I'm feeling great!"

At that precise moment I could hear and feel my heart pounding maliciously against my ribcage. The muscles in my heart bunched up and the familiar sting started up again. I rammed my eyes shut, inhaling slowly as I counted to ten and back again. Just ignore it... They all looked at me with concerned looks.

"_Rose!_" Tony exclaimed, climbing onto the bed to hug me.

He was so sweet. Mum tried to push him off, but I protested and allowed the little scamp to sit on my lap.

"Rose, Jackie's right. For once..." I heard him add the latter part under his breath. I grinned slightly. "It's not good for you or your health if you refuse to tell us any symptoms or pains you're enduring!" the Other agreed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How can we do anymore research to create an  
antidote?"

"What research?!" I huffed angrily. "Since when has this been going on? No one bothered to tell me!"

They all looked at each other warily. See? This is what I meant when I said they hid _everything_ from me.

"Well?" I said, determined to get a proper answer for once.

"Your father set it up a couple of weeks ago, he thought it might help a little. You know, try and find out more about... your condition," the Other Doctor explained.

"You _never_ tell me anything, and you say _I _hide things!"

"We didn't tell you because we knew you'd be like _this_," he sighed.

How many times had I told them not to try anything? I appreciated their concern and everything, but I warned them _not_ to go meddling in my affairs and set up some private research lab just for my sake. The main reason why I didn't want all this fuss was the fact that I didn't want to give myself too much hope, didn't want myself getting too optimistic only to find out it will never happen.

"You know as well I as I do that no blimming research is going to help my condition. I'm just going to fade away and... and _die_, so just accept it!" I snapped at him.

Mum bit her lip before running out the room crying. Oh no, I always hated it when that happened. Look at what I'd done.

"Rose Tyler, you're a genius," I muttered incoherently to myself.

I couldn't help it. The words had just slipped out of my mouth. I know it was harsh to shout at the Other Doctor like that, but I couldn't help being horrible to him sometimes and I was sorry, sorry that he was stuck with me. The Doctor had gotten it wrong; things didn't work out the way he had planned them to go. If  
anything we drifted iaway/i from each other instead of getting closer...

But it was all true. There was no cure, no antidote or medicine, nothing for  
what I'd got. I _was_ going to fade away and die...

"Don't worry Rose. I'll see to Jackie," the O. Doctor said briefly as he turned  
to go after Mum.

"You're not going to die, are you, Rose? That's not true is it? Please don't die! You're the greatest sister ever..." Tony wailed.

I nibbled my bottom lip and was glad when Jake decided to speak for me. "Don't listen to us, Tony. We're all just talking rubbish. Your sister is just a bit sick. She'll be fine in no time!"

"Yeah, I'm just being silly! Look." I pulled a stupid face and Tony laughed.

I snuggled up closer to him.

"How's Dad?" I asked after a while.

"He's better than ever. You know that Antrotoxian Alien that was responsible for all the murders? The one we caught last year?"

I nodded. Of course I did; _I_ was the one who'd caught the red furred rascal in the first place, but I didn't bother to point that little fact out. That alien was a terror to Liverspoon (Yep, not Liverpool)! It once killed ten shoppers at the WaitRose with one glance. Seriously! In the end, I had to chase it over three miles across some farm, on a _bike_. I managed to knock it out with a horse tranquilizer, then Torchwood locked it up in a cell! It was phonebox-sized, and trust me, it was cramp. I pitied the poor creature, even though I still despised it for all the murders it commited. Anyway, I got really infuriated at Dad for keeping the alien stashed away like an experiment, so I got him to set up a secret establishment on a deserted island for any alien threats they'd discovered. (The only reason I think he agreed was because I threatened to move out.) Anyway...

"Well, the Research and Devise Team found out that it was a memory chip implanted in his head that made him so evil, but they took it out. Pete sent it back to its home planet yesterday, using technology they'd found on some island years ago."

"Right."

"Yep."

We bathed in silence until Jake ruined it.

"Your dad's sending the scientists out today, they've been sent to thirteen different countries. Even Papua New Guinea! But, it has been said they've got one of the best miracle cures! Oh... and the Research Dep said they're really getting results from studying the old Dimension Can--"

"Just _shut up_!" I shouted, then closed my eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, but please stop going on about some stupid cure or stupid results! I honestly don't care anymore, Jake... It's no use anymo--"

My head suddenly throbbed as I was mentally psyched by excruciating pain. I cried out in agony and clutched my head, swimming out of consciousness. My heart felt like smashing out of my ribcage; each throb sent a nerve spitting out painful reactions... My muscles tightened and the blood rushed to my head.

"Rose! Rose! ROSE!?"

"Rose, what's wrong?"

I heard half a dozen voices yell at me.

Not long after that I felt wires and an IV being attached to me.

This is me. Rose Marion Tyler, aged 23 and stuck on my death bed... But oh no, it wasn't cancer or heart disease or anything common or anywhere near extremely rare... It was Universe Allergy. I was allergic to the  
_**universe**_.

It had been exactly five months, three weeks and two days since the Doctor, the love of my life, left me on this universe and disappeared from me life, _forever. _This is my life.

_**TBC...**_


	2. We Walk

The noisy grinding of the TARDIS reverberated around the empty area as the petite blue box slowly blended itself into existence. The TARDIS's power cells had been roasted after its trip to the Parallel universe, where he'd left... her. Anyway, the quick trip afterward to 1869 really drained the old girl's energy. So the Doctor had brought the ship back to 21st century London to refuel; which entailed the process of soaking in the energy from the Rift in Time and Space, which just so happened to run straight through Cardiff.

He'd only stop for a few moments and then he would fly off again. The Doctor had purposely landed the TARDIS as quietly as possible, so not to attract any attention from the public and Torchwood. That way he could slink off without being attacked by a bombardment of questions. That was the last thing he wanted right now...

***

However, as it so happened, Jack and Mickey both heard and immediately recognised the unmistakable sound of the ancient Time Machine materialising.

"The TARDIS!" they both shouted simultaneously, grinning like mad.

"Oh, you're keen," Gwen chuckled, looking up from the computer as the two men rushed out.

It was a bit odd though. It had only been one and a half days since they'd previously met...

Jack halted at the familair sight before taking out the silver TARDIS key from his breast pocket. He slotted the key into the lock and was soon enough greeted by the friendly hum of the great machine. It was a bit surprising to find only the Doctor stood behind the console flicking switches with a glum look upon his face.

"Doctor?!"

The Doctor's train of thought was interrupted by Mickey's voice.

"So much for a quick getaway," he thought as a sigh escaped his lips.

He snapped his head up, a large smile plastered on his face; one that didn't quite reach his sullen eyes.

"Hello Captain! And Mickey the idiot! What can I do for you? A _party_ maybe? One that venues cakes with silver ball bearings, hopefully?"

"Not today, Doctor. Just wondering where the fire and flames, Miss Donna Noble was! So where is Donna?" Jack boomed, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, and where's Rose?" Mickey said frowning. "Wait a second, are you the other him? I mean like the other Doctor. 'Cos I remember last time, there were two of you in 'ere. Is the real Doctor inside the TARDIS or somethin' with Donna and Rose?"

"What?! Oh you mean me? No, course not! Can't you tell between two _completely different_ people anymore? Mickey, and you too Jack, remember that I'm always **always**, always the dashing, clever and might I say, brilliant one with the stunning brown suit," the Doctor babbled, dancing his way round the console. "Speaking of which, Mr Harkness, where's this amazing Headquarters and magnificent team of yours then, you've been going on about, hmm?"

"They're inside, Doc. I could show you sometime when you've got time to spare away from the TARDIS," Jack replied.

"Firstly, don't call me Doc. It's really annoying and secondly, how about now? I'd like to judge for myself how good it is!"

"What?"

"Come on, let's go see this amazing Torchwood of yours!" the Doctor called, grabbing his trench coat and heading out. There was no way of escaping this one; he may as well make the most of it.

"Yeah sure, why not? You have got to meet Ianto and Gwen, life-savers they are. They're the ones that helped us last time, remember? So, where are the rest of your comp--"

He didn't get a reply. The Doctor yanked open the door, gesturing for Mickey and Jack to join him  
outside.

Jack stayed rooted to the spot. "I'm not going anywhere 'till you tell me where Donna is."

The Doctor sighed, face falling. "Donna... Donna's not coming. She's not here, I'm sorry. I'll explain on the way."

Jack looked at him with utter confusion while Mickey just shook his head. Once Mickey and Jack filed out, the Doctor gently closed the door behind him and started walking swiftly in the way Jack was pointing.

"You were saying... about Donna?" Captain Jack repeated.

"OK, Donna... I had to wipe all her memories. Every single fragment of me or the TARDIS and every single encounter we ever had. It all had to be erased."

"But why?" Mickey asked, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

The Doctor's face fell again. "As I'm sure I've told you over and over again, there's never been a TimeLord-Human metacrisis before. It was that impossible that it shouldn't have even happened! I had to... It was the only option, she would've died if I didn't do what I did."

"Doctor, I'm sorry, " Jack muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"There's no need. Donna Noble was brilliant. Practically got a brand new life now. Her grandad will look out for her..."

"It was a waste. Brilliant woman, all those memories, _lost _forever. How will she live?" Jack said, looking up.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll manage! She is _Donna _after all," The Doctor said; Jack returned a meek smile.

They all walked in silence for a while, the only sound being the continuous rush of traffic on the main road.

"Rose?" Mickey interrupted, determined to get an answer.

Mickey had the suspicious tinge of where this was going, but he hoped badly that it wasn't true. The Doctor could've dropped Rose off somewhere for a holiday or... or... she could still be in the TARDIS sleeping, but the Doctor didn't want to disturb her. Because if what he thought was true, then Mickey didn't know what he would do... He was sure Rose had twigged, that he was only coming back to this Universe because of the bad reactions the Parallel Universe had on him.

"She's safe," the Doctor stated finally. "They're both safe, Rose and the other me. I took them to the Parallel Universe. The walls have closed forever now, for good. Don't worry Mickey, I know what you're thinking, I'm sure Rose will be happy... with him."

Mickey stared at the alien, not quite believing what he was hearing. Oh no, it was all true! His face reddened quickly into a furious scarlet, and Mickey violently grabbed the Doctor by his tie.

"Mickey! Mickey, think about what you're doing! You're going to regr--" Jack started off, thinking that Mickey was going to blow his top and completely lose it. Of course, it also came as a surprise to him that the Doctor would leave Rose on the Parallel Universe again, especially after she'd travelled so far to get to him. But he was sure that the Doctor's decision had no flaws in it, because the Doctor would never do anything that would put Rose in danger, seeing how much he loved her.

Jack was just about ready to step in and pull Mickey away, when Mickey himself retreated. He carried on walking faster ahead of them, muttering to himself. The Doctor shrugged, then ran after him unsure of what to do next. Should he comfort him? Yell at him? Beg for forgiveness?

This was all too confusing for Jack. One minute Mickey was furious and ready for a fight, next second he's off sad and depressed talking to himself. They soon caught up with him.

"Mickey, tell me what's wrong? There's nothing wrong! Rose Marion Tyler is happy and safe in the other universe. I can't promsie no alien threats, but she is safe. She's with Jackie and Pete and the other Doctor, he'll look after her. She's perfectly safe, you don't understand!" the Doctor cried helplessly.

"No, you don't understand Doctor! You don't get it do you? I can't believe you let Rose go, knowing that!" Mickey muttered incoherently.

"What are you talking about? Rose didn't tell me anything."

"It's all my fault. I let her go off with you, trusting you to keep 'er safe. I trusted you Doctor. I honestly did. I thought you were gonna look after her, but look what happened."

"Mickey, I'm not getting any of this. What is going on!?"

"Rose is gonna die now. She'll just get sicker and sicker in that Universe! It's all my fault... my fault... Rose is gonna..."

"Mickey? Mickey! Mickey?!" The Doctor yanked the fellow by the shoulders and spun him round to face him as his double-heartbeat thumped rapidly. "Mickey, did you just say that Rose is going to _die_?"

Mickey nodded slowly, taking a breath after all that talking. The Doctor glared in horror.

Jack pressed a button on his modernised watch communicator and said into it, "Ianto we're going to need some tea. _Lots _of it."


	3. Hot 'N' Cold

**A/N: - Heyaaa people!! I'm very sorry for not updating in **_**forever **_**but I've been temporarily stuck for ideas. Then once I'd finally got it all down on paper and typed it up on computer, I had to wait a couple of days till it got the once-over by my Beta. (******** star, she is!!) I apologise if this chapter drags on a bit, and doesn't have a point – but I just put it up here so that you had something to read and something to keep me on my toes, till I think of something better while I type up the next chapter. The next chappie will (hopefully) make more sense in the long run. I just wanted this chapter to loosen up the angst a bit. ! :D :D :D :D :D (Beta-ed by the ever amazing, sonicthecat7!!) Did you know that chewing a red paper Bus Pass, hwile you're waiting in the bus queue in the school hall is a VERY good idea. Red Buss Passes are very tasty, trust me, 'cos for every one minute we have to wait for the bus - I nibble a bit off my ticket. My friends think I'm barmy but their the ones WITH gum, when I haven't got any --*sighs* *sobs*...  
**

**PS: I've changed it to five months and not seven, since Bad Wolf bay, instead 'cos then, it evens out the time difference.**

_Two weeks later. (Still) Union Hospital. London. England. Parallel Universe…_

"… Pete, honestly! I know it's not your fault, but it's all work, work, work with you these days!" Mum shouted down the phone. There was a brief pause in the conversation; I was sure poor old Dad was getting a whole earful. "I ought to go down to the office and give them scientists a piece of my mind! Yeah I know that! I know it's for Rose, that's what makes me even more worried… Well, I s'pose if it can't be helped… Take care of yourself then. I'll see you tonight or... whenever. Love you too. Bye."

Mum snapped the mobile shut and sighed. "Your so-called father can't make it again! I tried to tell 'im Rose, I really did! But you know how possessive 'e is over Torchwood and all…"

"It's OK, Mum. Dad doesn't have to come here; it's nothing that important. What's really worrying me is what Tony's doing to the Other Doctor right now!" I laughed, remembering the last time Mum hired a nanny for Tony. By the time we got back Tony had completely flooded the bathroom and the so-called 'nanny' was nowhere to be seen; so much for her. I only hoped this Doctor would be better.

Mum was getting tense now because today was the day I got my Health Test results back, which meant I would find out whether I could get discharged or not. My hopes were up because every other test had said the same thing about my health – there was nothing wrong at all. It obviously wasn't true due to the fact that I was in a hospital and very sick with an illness that had never been seen before. But the tests said what the tests said!

"Miss Tyler?" Nurse Redfern called, file in hand and looking as pristine as ever.

Her first name was Joan, though she solely insisted that everyone called her Ms. Redfern, and she was a widow. She didn't really say _much _about her private life; so I didn't ask. 'Joan' was quite old-fashioned and, like the early 20th century style, she wore and looked exactly the same everyday; same smooth and simple uniform, same hair in a neat little bun, same make-up, same everything! I never really liked talking to her regularly as she wasn't exactly the type to be hippy-happy friendly with anyone. Being overly bias, in my opinion, was also a huge fault in her manner. If you were of a certain ethnicity or sexuality, oh boy, you were in trouble if you came across her!

"Miss Tyler?"

"Call me Rose, 'Miss Tyler' bugs me," I answered, shrugging as I followed Mum into the Doctor's office. Just as I went in I felt a hand tap me on the shoulder and I spun around to face Joan.

"Um, Miss Ty… Rose?" she stuttered nervously.

"Yeah, everything OK?"

"Is John with you?" I didn't call him anything if I could help it, but everyone else who didn't know him personally called him 'John Smith'. He really did love that name!

"No, he's at home watching over Tony. Why?"

"Nothing, really… I was just wondering, because he said he would call me yesterday but… He never really… Oh look at me yapping away like that, never mind, never mind. Forget I said anything." She went bright red and hurried off muttering under her breath.

"Oh, Nurse Redfern?" I called after her. She turned back around. "Don't worry, I'll pass a message onto John that you wanted to speak to him."

"Thank you, Rose."

I smiled at her as she left. The Other Doctor thought I hadn't noticed that he and Nurse Redfern were getting closer, didn't notice the way they had become _very_ friendly towards each other. It had been going on ever since we decided to just be close best friends, and they met when my pains became too obvious to be ignored so we had to keep going to the Hospital. Again, like Doctor Yana, the other Doctor seemed to have already known Joan somehow… It started off as embarrassed looks and awkward smiles between them, but soon developed into merry greetings, and then came to swanning off for 'private' chats that he thought I didn't know about.

He must've thought I'd be jealous or something; but why would I be? Things didn't work between us and I accepted that we weren't meant to be. It was his life, his Human life, so he could have what he wanted. OK, OK, maybe deep down somewhere I was a little jealous and mad at him for finding someone else so fast. But, other than that and the irritating fact that I wasn't a big fan of Joan and her prejudice, I was kinda happy he found someone special. He only had one life after all and, not the old life with all the fancy regenerations. The Other Doctor had a _lot _to get used to with his new Human life. I plonked myself down onto a comfy material chair and waited for the doctor. A couple of minutes later Doctor Yana bounded in, a handful of paper and radiographer results in his hands, white hair sticking up, his beady black eyes screwed up in concentration. He was an odd old man, in his sixties maybe, but when you were around him you couldn't help but feel that he was in a world of his own. I couldn't blame him; he was an orphan at the age of ten, found wandering the streets with all his memories completely gone. He never  
told us anything else, not only because he wanted to keep his life private but he didn't remember half of it! The Other Doctor didn't make him feel very welcome either. When they first met he started claiming that Doctor Yana was a dangerous man, muttering things like 'Utopia' and 'Master' and 'evil' and accusing him of all sorts. In the end it turned out that it was all a misunderstanding and the other Doctor apologised sheepishly (receiving a slap from Mum after). Apparently, there was a version of him on my Universe in which Doctor Yana was this maniacal, chaos-creating bloke. He didn't tell me anything else.

Anyway, Doctor Yana put down the results and smiled at me. "Rose, how are  
you today?"

"Oh, you know me, fine as usual!" I replied, being honest. And it was true - nothing had happened to me for two days running. Eversince I woke up from my five-day coma a couple of days ago, it seemed my so-called _condition _had improved, just a bit anyway.

"Ah, but isn't that the mystery Rose, trying to identify whether you are really fine or not?" Doctor Yana asked, raising his eyebrows at me. Why did everyone assume that if I said 'I was fine', I wasn't?

"I'm good though, nothing bad's happened to me in the past couple of days. Just the odd headache, 's all. Mum will tell you, won't you mum?" I glared at my mother hopefully.

"What?! Oh yes, of course, she's been in perfect harmony all of yesterday and the day before. So then Mr Yana, what did the test results say? Can she go 'ome today?" Mum pushed impatiently.

"Well, to be honest Rose, it would always do best if you stayed here for awhile longer because your condition is getting no better. Though according to the test results, I cannot find any fault. Of course, we all know there is something wrong, indeed. But who can trust technology these days? What with the world being so modern and nobody really knowing what they're doing anymore? Yet the Americans have still willed on to construct the ultimate space shuttle, to take them to the furthest reaches of the galaxy in the fastest amount of time.

"But, have you spotted their flaw Miss Tyler? I have. Because, without a stable footprint they'll never achieve escape velocity. So, only if they could harmonise the five impact patterns and unify them, well, they might yet make it? But they have failed to realise their simplest problem, and I don't think they'd listen to an old man like me. What do you think? Any ideas?" Yana nodded at me, beetle-like eyes twinkling slightly.

The thing was, Doctor Yana tended to go on a bit, and strayed from the point sometimes. Therefore I didn't understand a word of his space shuttle theories and just shook my head to be on the safe side. He reminded me of _the real Doctor _when he rambled on about his theories and his random stuff, but Yana was like him in slow motion, if you get what I mean.

"Um, no I don't doctor. So, you were saying, about my results?"

"Oh yes, of course! Silly me, sometimes I stray from the path, I do apologise! Anyway, as always the results have come back with nothing at all so it's a yes. You shall be safe to return home," he finished.

Finally! Progress at last.

"…But there is one thing," he paused. Oh, what the hell was it now? "We're going to have to, say, monitor your body for a long while…"

"Explain."

It turned out that I had to have this weird techno watch permanently strapped to my wrist for observations. With one press of a button it could tell me my heart rate, body temperature, blood pressure and other readings I couldn't really understand. The most important though was my bio-signature which would show my overall bodily analysis. Green glow, I'm great; orange glow, I'm OK; yellow glow, there's a hazard; red glow, I'm in danger. It glowed an emerald green at the moment which seemed to please Doctor Yana very much.

"So, we'll be able to keep a track of your location and your heart rate, but the rest is up to you. So if your watch turns red or yellow, even, you must contact the hospital immediately! Do I make myself clear, Rose?"

I felt like a little kid, getting lectured about 'safety' rules, but I answered cheerfully anyway with a "Yep, sure thing!", just to please him, even though I felt like a complete baby.

*

An hour later, I was all packed up and was in the gorgeous early-summer daylight breathing in the fresh air of the car park. It was the first proper air I'd inhaled in a month, and it felt like seeing the world for the first time again. I remarked everything as beautiful, but Mum pointed out that I looked really pale and thin in the sunlight. I shrugged it off, changing the topic. Dad sent his chauffeur 'Kingsley' to pick us up in a stunning black limousine and I piled my bags into the boot. I ducked my head and tried to  
climb into the limo, but a sudden dizziness struck me and it made me stumble a little. Shielding my face from the sun, I managed to clear my head and pushed the dizziness to the back of my mind – for the moment.

"Miss Tyler, is something wrong?" Kingsley boomed in his thick Jamaican accent, pushing down his black sunglasses to get a better look.

"Rose, are you OK?" Mum asked as a fit of worry dominated her. "'m fine," I muttered, pushing her away. "Just the sunlight, that's all. It got in my way; not used to it, what with me being locked up for hell knows how many days. No worries!"

Mum looked sceptic for a split second, but then breathed a huge sigh of relief and slapped me on the arm. "Rose! Don't do that ever again, you didn't half-scare me. I thought there was something wrong with you again. Alright then Kingsley, let's be off."

I just laughed it off and tucked myself into the car silently. Right now, the watch shone a yellow meaning 'hazard', but I swiftly dismissed it and put the watch well out of sight. To hell with it. I wouldn't let _anything_ spoil my chance to get out of this hospital.

_TBC…_

**PPS: - Just wanted to let you know, that in the next chapter I shall be using Stephan Moffat's (not) charming little speech about the Doctor's ****ingenious**** plan of palming Rose off with a copy of himself. I feel like murdering that writer! No offence…**

**PPPS: - Loads of REVIEWS a day, keep Writer's Block well away (I think...)!! Like it? Hate it? Criticism to fire? Tell me through a review!! (If I get a good enough response, I'll post up the next chapter very very **_**very **_**soon…) Thanx for reading.  
**


	4. Foundations

"Your tea," Ianto said coolly, handing the Doctor his cup of tea.

The Doctor mumbled a thank you before he grasped the cup and saucer and settled it down onto the furnished conference table. All was quiet; Mickey was pacing up and down, hands scrunched up by his cheeks while Captain Jack sat at the far end of the table leaning on one elbow, silently thrumming his fingers onto the surface of the table. Ianto quietly floated out of the room after serving tea to Jack and Mickey. Gwen flitted in and out of the room, paperwork held tightly in her hands with each pass and, on another chair in the room, sat the Doctor as he ran a hand through his hair deep in thought. He reached  
for the tea and took a sip, only to retreat in shock as the scalding hot tea burned his tongue.

"Ouch!" he complained, hissing and nursing his burnt tongue.

Ianto poked his head round the door unknowingly. "Um… Doctor, sir. I forgot to mention, the tea's still ho— Whoops…" He turned red with embarrassment when he noticed the damage had already been done. "Um, yeah, I think I will just… go."

Jack sniggered vaguely but soon turned to his silence again; triggered on by the looks he was receiving from Gwen, Mickey and the Doctor – not happy at all. All was terribly awkward after Mickey had finally repeated the news about Rose; the Doctor had not even questioned the perception filter on the pavement-lift or asked about the technology of the pavement lift and he didn't even go into his rambles about their enormous pet pterodactyl that busied itself with flying around. This was not good indeed.

"Mickey, can you just stop pacing up and down! It's disturbing my concentration," the Doctor shouted, screwing up his hair.

"Well what else do expect me to do? I'm trying to think of something 'cause I've just found out someone's gonna die because of me, while you sit there drinking cups of tea. Tell me, tell me Doctor what you want me to do? Just sit around and do nothing, act like the tin dog all over again? Is that what you want?!" Mickey spat the last words out with spite, then sighed and flopped back down into a chair, giving up.

"Thank you and no, that's not at all what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean, huh? TELL ME!"

"Woah, woah, just calm down Mickey," Jack interrupted.

"But he--"

"No buts, right now our most important priority is Rose. You two can argue your buttocks off after and you could have a showdown down in Bristol for all I care – I'll ref, but now we have another matter to deal with. Isn't that right, Doctor?"

The Doctor leaned back into the leather chair and reluctantly nodded, fingers interlocked. He was extremely quiet and that, knowing the Doctor as well as Jack did, was very scary indeed.

"So Mickey, firstly you need to explain absolutely everything. Start from the beginning," Jack pressed, inching forwards. "Oh and Gwen? Ianto? You don't need to hide behind the door you know…"

Red with mortification, Gwen and Ianto crept out of their hiding place and took their places in the remaining seats. The corner of Gwen's lips turned into a sad frown for a moment as she eyed the places where Mickey and the Doctor were sat – Tosh would be sat where the latter person was seated, sharing her wisdom, and Owen, who would be where Mickey was sat now, would be giving logical suggestions every now and again. Things weren't the same at Torchwood without them. Surprisingly, Mickey was a wonder to their team and had amazing skills on computers, but Torchwood still lacked Tosh's  
intelligence and kindness, not to mention Owen's logic and sarcasm. If it weren't for that blooming Captain John Hart, Toshiko Sato and Owen Harper would still be alive.

"Hello!" the Doctor exclaimed, smiling for the first time that morning. "You're Gwen Cooper, am I right?" They shook hands and a touch of warmth spread through her.

"Yes, that's me. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor. Jack's been telling me all about you. Right from when I started, haven't you Jack?"

Jack raised his eyebrows suggestively and the Doctor retorted back with a simple: "Stop it."

"And you must be… Hang on, I've got it, Ianto Jones. Remember me? Course you do, you helped save the world!" the Doctor also shook hands with the smart suited man.

"Doctor, we can do introductions later."

The Doctor suddenly remembered why he was here and put on his serious face again.

"OK, I'm not dead sure 'bout Rose but I can tell you briefly what I know anyways. When you first left me there, it was for a couple of months and the breach thing was still open. So I didn't 'ave no problems then. It was only when we were sealed off in that Universe for so-called forever; and me, Jacks and Rose suffered from really bad migraines and vision problems. It was like hell for the first week, like we were balancing between sickness and health. Some kinda side affect of moving Universes or summat like that and  
Rose was already having it bad then, what with you erased from her life. She was crying for weeks I tell ya. You don't know how terrible it felt whenever I looked at her an' she looked like she 'ad no hope of living."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor muttered. "I didn't know she had it that bad, I knew it was going to be hard for her but I thought she'd move on and find someone else."

"You wish! You don't wanna know how many times I tried to get back with her and introduce her to other blokes; she refused every time. Stubborn as a mule, Jackie used to say. All gone now…"

The Doctor, Captain Jack, Gwen and Ianto all listened intently as Mickey told his story of his temporary stay on the Parallel Universe. To Gwen, it was like when she was little and the whole of her family went out ghost stories.

The Doctor took note of every word that came out of Mickey's mouth intensely, drinking in all of their adventures. It turned out that they all had suffered from it in the beginning and it showed, so Pete (being the only unaffected) took them to the Hospital for scans though nothing could be found. A few weeks later they found out that Jackie was pregnant and all symptoms were blamed on the pregnancy. Jackie's side-affects and problems faded away as time went by and Mickey's weren't so bad.

That was when Rose started to keep a lot to herself and bought her own apartment; achieving independence. She did all the domestics; wake up, go to work, go back home, go to sleep. But however much she hid it Mickey saw no difference. She was still depressed and grieving inside, even though she tried her best not to show it. Rose worked it off at Torchwood; Pete promoted her to Head of her department in her first week and she was in charge of all the Field Agents and any alien activity. Meanwhile Mickey was also in charge of a smaller group of field agents, but was mostly stuck in the office doing  
research on Rift activity.

"Hmph, it was more like flippin' paperwork," Mickey snorted. "They barely ever let me out and deal with any aliens. I started feeling like the tin dog again, so I protested to Pete, ya know Rose's dad, and I started alien busting again."

The Doctor's face screwed up. "Guns, I take it?"

Mickey nodded and Jack was sure the Doctor was about to go into his all famous 'Guns are not the solution' speech, so he intruded and reminded the Time Lord that they needed to hear the rest of the story first. Anyway, Mickey's migraines came back and he started to feel sick all the time, therefore he saw a doctor but was only waved off with a box of pain killers. Then…

"I started sitting down and I did my own studying, since no one cared." Mickey received four pairs of raised eyebrows. "OK, OK… It wasn't exactly reading thick textbooks and watching them nerdy documentaries, but I read something on the internet about moving Universes and I looked it up. Then it lead me on to another site and that's when I started reading the 'His Dark Material' trilogy by, um… Philip Pieman, I think."

"Philip Pullman, actually. Brilliant man, that one! Met him once, when he was young and when I was in like my fourth regeneration, or was it my fifth regeneration? I can never remember, but he was just a young--"

"… Anyway, I started reading those books and there was this character, a boy's father, who'd like, you know, literally moved Universes and he was stuck in that Universe for ten years or something like that. And the longer he was away from his home Universe the sicker he got. In the end, he'd gone all mad and crazy, not to mention he was half-dying."

"OH!" the Doctor exclaimed, clutching his head and jumping out of his seat. "I should've realised this before; how thick am I?! Not very thick at all obviously, but… but... but I must've been stupid enough to forget, boy am I gettin' old!"

"What is it, Doctor?" Jack asked, confusion visible in his expression.

"Phillip Pullman!"

"What about him?" Gwen questioned. "He's just an author isn't he?"

"He's not _just_ an author! Philip Pullman was a _fantastic _author! _The_ 'His  
Dark Materials' trilogy was a best-seller right? Right! Mind you, 'Ruby and  
the Smoke' was very good too and trust me, I know good books when I see 'em!  
Any-way, if I remember correctly, those books were actually based on him and  
his experience in the Parallel World – I suspect that he himself had somehow  
transported himself into a Parallel dimension, through an unguarded hole. Back  
then the Time Lords were still alive, so travel between Universes was as easy  
as a snap of the fingers and he must've just blundered his way in without  
knowing what was in it for him. Mind you, he did go missing for a couple of  
years so--"

"Um… Doctor, sir, if you don't mind me saying…" Ianto waited for the Doctor's approval to speak before continuing his query. "I've read those books and there's a lot of stuff about gods and prophecies and angels and daemons in there. Are you saying all of that stuff is actually true?"

The Doctor's face crumpled up as he racked his brains for the answer. "I'd say good old Phil got a teeny bit carried away there with all that religious stuff, just part of his own opinions and beliefs I suppose, but nothing important to know."

Mickey suddenly remembered something. "I know we're straying from the point here, but in the books, the boy, Will, had this like knife that could cut windows into other Universes."

"Yeah, but the thing is that knives like that don't exist anymore. The Time Lords destroyed them right before the Time War in case the wrong people got their hands on them. However, there has been a legend slash myth sorta thing going round that there is still one knife left in the whole of reality. But nobody's ever found it so the odds are that they doesn't even exist…"

"What did this knife look like exactly?" Gwen asked, Welsh drawl emphasised as an idea played on her lips. Jack caught Gwen's eye and gave her a perplexed look, but Gwen just looked away with a shrug.

"The knife? Well, like any normal knife I suppose; metal, long, elaborate handle, leather pouch. Not really sure to be honest, why?" the Doctor replied.

"It's just, Torchwood 'ave got this knife. See, they found it some years back. Ianto named it the Life Knife, because… well, it killed people and then Suzie came back and, yeah… You know what I'm on about right Jack?"

"Yeah, you're right. Oh Gwen, you cheeky bugger, you're not thinking  
what I'm thinking, are you?" Jack said, a sly grin erupting across his  
handsome face.

"Depends Jack; if _that _something you're thinking about is related to certain fantasies ant everything else that goes in that cheeky head of yours then no, but if you're thinking that our Life Knife could be connected to what the Doctor's on about, then yes!"

Jack mocked a pout. "The first one was pretty tempting, Miss Cooper, but I'm all for your last one!"

"Can we just get to the point, 'cause from this point onward I'm gone; what are you talking about?"

Gwen explained to the Doctor about her wacky, albeit possible idea that the legendary mysterious knife could actually be under their noses and in Torchwood itself.

"So where is it?" Mickey asked, speaking up for the first time in ages.

"The box of untouchables…" Ianto concluded.

Not long after they were all out of the purple light of the conference room and in the paleness of the central area of the Hub. The Doctor was babbling at 100mph in awe at all the technology and the organic computers that Captain Jack was having no problems boasting about. Jack was in the middle of his theory of the computers, when suddenly there was a distant but clear moaning sound coming from the direction of the lower area of the Hub.

"What was that?" the Doctor said, ears pricking up.

Jack knew that the Doctor wouldn't be too happy about what it really was so he lied. "It's nothing."

"Jack…" Gwen sighed.

The moaning started up again, a bit louder this time. Gwen, Jack, Mickey and Ianto all knew where the source of the noise was coming from, but didn't say anything in case it was a mistake.

"Jack... I said 'what was that?'"

"I told you, it's nothing, just leave it be. It's probably the venting system or something," Jack repeated, growing nervous.

Ianto went over to his Boss and whispered something in his ear; Jack sighed once more and nodded. Ianto then walked over to Gwen and told her something, which she furrowed her brow at. The Doctor was not a fool and he knew something was up; he strode over to the Captain and looked him in the eye with a piercing stare.

"Jack, you'd better tell me what that noise really is or you'll regret it when I find out for myself."

"I'm telling you, it's nothing!" Jack insisted.

The moan turned into a beseeching plea now and the Doctor was definitely phased. Jack didn't answer.

"It's the weevil," Mickey stated finally.

"Oh, Mickey, you just made the most idiotic decision of your life!" Jack  
sighed, defeated as he began rubbing his eyelids.

"The what?"

"Meet Janet; a weevil. Weevils are mutated life forms that first came through the Rift a couple of years ago." Jack gave in; there was no backing away now the Doctor knew. "They've multiplied into hundreds since then and they live in the sewers, devouring all the meat they can get. We try to restrain them and cover-up any murders they've done…"

"Then why is it here?"

"We've kept it; we run tests on it to see if we can find out more about it's species and…"

The Doctor had heard enough. They'd locked it up. Mickey pointed him the way and Ianto had no choice but to lead the Doctor to where the weevil was. He had orders from Jack to feed the beast anyway, but the weevil had been getting agitated a lot these days because Ianto couldn't find anymore supplies of the meat it usually ate. Behind, Jack had a go at Mickey for telling the Doctor in the first place, whispering things like "What was that about?" and Mickey replied with measly excuses like "Wasn't my fault."

"You've locked it up!?" came the Doctor's angered voice from the basement, where all the cells were. Jack sprinted over.

"Yeah, it's the only way to contain it because otherwise--"

"Jack, this is inhumane! Just because it's not human does not give you the right to just lock it up against it's free will. It's a LIVING CREATURE!" the Doctor hundered, arms flailing to stress his point. "It's whining, it doesn't like this. You've got at least half a dozen here! Is this some kind of prison?"

"Doctor, you don't understand--"

"No, I think it's you Captain Jack Harkness who doesn't understand!" the Doctor hissed. "I'm an Alien, aren't I? So, don't _I _pose a threat to Humanity. You've seen me Jack, I've killed many a times and you _know it_.So how come I'm not locked up, hmm?! Isn't it a Torchwood procedure to lock up a threat to Humanity? What you waiting for; GO ON THEN, LOCK ME UP AND THROW AWAY THE KEY! Just like you've done with the rest of these creatures. Go on then handcuff me!" The Doctor turned his back on Jack and crushed his wrists together, as if he were about to be arrested.

"We can't do that! You're family to us?"

"Did you stop to think about that too, Jack? That these _weevils _have families too. They probably had a _life _before you took them away from their _home._ They had a place to feel loved and they belonged to their own community, before you took them away! Why couldn't you just leave them be?"

"Leave them be?! Leave them to kill other innocent life; that's not what we do…WE DO WHAT WE HAVE TO!" Jack interrupted fiercely. "It's my job, because you're not here to save the Human race every time, you're on and off. We have to protect everyone! I know that it's a living creature as well as you do, and I do care about it's welfare. That's why it's here; to heal it. It was sick and deluded when we first found him Doctor, all that weevil ever did was kill and murder because of its fear of the human race. And the only reason that it's whining is because Ianto hasn't fed it due to the fact that you're here. So I suggest you listen to the facts before jumping to conclusions; we're not like the other Torchwood! We don't torture these creatures; we're here to help them!" Jack hissed, glaring at the Time Lord with barely controlled rage. "We save them from _themselves_."

The Doctor was off again, up the stairs and away from them all. Gwen gestured a look of confusion to Ianto, but he shrugged and dug his hands back into his pockets signalling to follow Jack and the Doctor.

"Jack, you're all the same! I thought you were different, but you're exactly the same as the old Torchwood I saw; it's still guns, violence and locking things up for you, isn't it? This is just as bad, as the other Torchwood. You can never break from the habit!" the Doctor roared.

"It's changed over the years Doctor, how can't you see that? I've tried to use fewer guns, but the guns aren't only for our protection but for the aliens too. They're just there as a threat; Plan B. Everyone's provided with a basic stun gun, along with the bullet gun; it just sends a shock down the spine, it doesn't kill and we barely use them anyway."

"Well you haven't convinced me so far."

"Let's just all calm down and get on with thinking of a way to get Rose back. As Mickey said, she's closer to dying than any of us. You can debate about everything else later when we're at peace! Talking of homes, what did _you_ do to Rose?! You took _her _away from _her home_ and dumped her in another Universe, when you knew _very well_ indeed that her home was here. You _locked _her up there. So don't you think your words are a contradiction upon themselves!?!" Jack snarled, each word spouted out spite and emotion. But as much as Jack hated saying these words, he wouldn't let the Doctor enter his life and stamp all over him. He couldn't let that happen; not again, not this time.

"I think you should think before you act Jack, 'cause you don't know a _thing _that you're saying right now! Leave her out of this; Rose has nothing to do with this, at this moment! She can wait, because right now I want to put a stop to all of this. You're not even helping to be honest, all you're doing is using that smart mouth of yours--" The Doctor clearly didn't know what had come over him, but the recent events of Davros and the 1869 Christmas seemed to have stirred up the rage inside of him and he just needed to release some of it for once.

Jack was not happy; not one bit. "We're trying to help, Doctor, but you don't seem to be cooperating very much. Why? You know what I think, Doctor?" Jack supplied angrily, grabbing the Doctor by the collar and slamming him against the nearest wall. The Doctor stayed silent, breathing heavily as he refused to defend himself.

"JACK!" Gwen and Ianto yelled simultaneously.

"Stop it, you're going to hurt him!" Gwen warned, striding over to relieve Jack of his hold. Mickey stood in a dark doorframe, unable to offer any help for his own safety – he didn't want them both turning on him.

"Jack, you're going to regret this," Ianto concluded in agreement, in tow with Gwen. "And to be on the safe side, if I were you, I'd take a step back before I fell into the autopsy bay."

"Thank you, Ianto." Jack nodded briefly at the man and stepped backwards, away from the steps leading down into the autopsy bay. "I'll tell you what's wrong, Doc! I think you don't want to save her; I think you don't give a crap whether Rose Tyler dies or not. Why do you think about that now? So is it true? Gwen, Ianto, what do you think?" Jack said, his accent becoming more pronounced with each word that passed between his lips.

He loosened his hold on the Doctor slightly before spinning his head round, eyes shifting to Gwen and then Ianto and vice versa. The pair stayed silent; it was obvious that Jack was trying to wind the Doctor up, and it would be foolish of them to get any more involved than they already were.

"Captain--" the Doctor started off, evidently hurt and shocked at this sudden outburst.

Jack interrupted him and continued. "Oh come on folks, you have to hand it to the Doctor for dumping his needy girlfriend by palming her off on a copy of himself. Don't you think? He tried leaving her in a Parallel Universe and that didn't work!" His attention turned away from Gwen, Ianto and Mickey and shifted back to the Doctor, whom of which was still held firmly in his grip. "But Rosie just came running back, thinking that you still wanted her but obviously she was wrong and you didn't even bother to tell her! I bet you were secretly annoyed that she'd managed to get back. She must've struggled through hell to get back to you; traveling from Universe to Universe and yet, ya just dumped her back where you left her, not caring to hell what happened to her. I bet you didn't even stop to think of any flaws…"

"SHUP UP! You don't know what you're saying," the Doctor yelled back defensively, then lowered his voice until it was scarcely audible. "I did, no, I _do_ care for her. All of what you just said isn't true and you know it Captain; she means the Universe to me and you know I'd never let her get hurt,"

Jack had completely released the Doctor from that point onwards and in his mind he was satisfied with what he just said. He only hoped that it would get a cog or two going in the Doctor's head and get the alien back to his senses.

"Thanks, Jack," the Doctor muttered, getting his balance back and uncreasing his jacket. He was back to his energetic old self… "And just to clarify Rose is my main priority and I'm going to do whatever it takes to save Rose Marion Tyler and bust her back into this Universe, because I'm the Doctor and I am _very good_."

Ianto found his cue to interrupt. "Now that this is over, I'm just going to feed the Weevils." And with that, Ianto stalked off quickly, leaving Gwen and Mickey to deal with the rest.

Torchwood burst out into true smiles for the first time in ages and Captain Jack Harkness knew one thing for certain. "Looks like we've got the Doctor back! So Mister, where's my consolation hug?" Jack outstretched his arms hopefully, as Mickey and Gwen grinned.

"Jack?" the Doctor uttered sweetly.

"Yeah?" Jack responded with a grin.

"Shut up," the Doctor supplied happily, spinning round on the balls of his feet to face Gwen, shoving on his infamous pair of dark-rimmed glasses as he did so. "So, Gwen Cooper, where is my Life Knife?"


	5. Shut Up And Drive

**A/N: ****- Quite a long while ago, I had a request to delve more into Rose's life in the Parallel Universe and go into detail about how the illness developed and such. Thank you, THANK YOU and THANK YOU to all the brillopad people, who've put me onto their Alerts and stuff. If all those Alerters took two seconds to put a simple =( or a =) in a review, then I'd love it even more! *hints* This has NOT been Beta-ed and is in the process of being Beta-ed at the moment, so if you'd like to read a perfect no-mistakes-at-all, I suggest you don't read this and wait until I've put up BETA-ED on the summary. I've only put this up today, because I just felt like ti for no reason at all! =D =D =D =D TTYL, me. **

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_1:30__, in the limo, Parallel Universe.  
_  
Mum rattled away about this and that while I was busy pretending to listen and allowed myself to nod at the appropriate moments, occasionally adding the general 'Yeah,' or 'Nope,' for good measure.

Kingsley joined in too, putting in jokes and happily yapping on about all the latest gossip with mum. My mind drifted away into oblivion as I looked outside at the cars and city landscape that rushed past us. The watch was still a noticeable yellow, tucked uncomfortably under my lap; the dizziness refused to go as my vision blurred even further and sent the inside of the car whirling round and round crazily. When was this going to stop? Never, that was the answer. I shut my eyes and drifted into a semi-conscious daydream – mulling over what had sent me to this point in my life, so that I was too helpless to defend myself…

***

I'd been in a complete and utter _wreck_ when I was first locked up in this Universe. One whole hour after the breach had closed, I was still sat leaning against the wall, sobbing my heart out and trying to will it back open. In the end I was dragged off set by force, by a merciless Jake and Mickey, when I refused to budge. But other than that, they left me alone and took it into heart, that I had just lost someone I… loved and wasn't in the mood to have a good argument. Yet, anyway.

_I lay tossing and turning on the bed, head feeling like it was going to explode. Head on fire, I outstretched my arm and grabbed the box of pain killers on my bedside table and rammed a capsule down my throat, swiftly downing it with water. The pain didn't stop._

That was what I was like in the first week after the breach had been shut. Mum wasn't any better, neither was Mickey. We were all suffering from what the (newly supplied) Torchwood scientists called, _'The after effects of the closure between the two Universes.'_ Apparently it was because, now we were permanently sealed off from our home Universe, our bodies needed time to heal and become immune to its new surroundings.

To hell with that. It was bad enough with me crying myself to sleep every night, but having this on top of it all? It was a living hell. We all stayed in Pete's mansion, coping with each other's moaning and groaning. (When Mickey first settled down in this Universe, he had occasionally stopped by to set up house in Pete's Mansion and he permanently settled down with us in those first couple of weeks.) Thankfully we only had to put up with it for a week, and then it sort of… disappeared, if you like. Then it back again, for me it did anyway, because I was _pretty _sure that hearing your heart thump out loud wasn't really an everyday phenomenon.

Two weeks after the breach had closed, Pete had set up Torchwood properly and it was up and running for business. In the next few days, dozens, maybe even hundreds of people lined up for job interviews and just seven days later Torchwood was fully stocked up and rearing to go. This Torchwood wasn't really like Yvonne's war-driven, power crazy version; it was better, in a sense. Violence was only a last resort now and no lethal weapons were permitted to be used, unless it was something darn right serious; only then  
was a full on bullet gun supplied. Other than that it was only stun guns, low-voltage tazors and weak tranquilizer guns we used.

Torchwood just collected whatever it came across, the natural way of course and not the 'build-a-giant-skyscraper-just-to-scavenge-an-alien-artefact' way. The Doctor would've been proud, if _he_ was there… I mostly stuck to black and other dark coloured items of clothing at Torchwood, and suits weren't my style so I definitely did not wear them.

Pete had promoted me from a Researcher to the manager of the Field Agents in one week. I protested of course, and told him I didn't want to be treated differently just 'cause I was his daughter. But he wasn't having any of it. So, at work I got on with all my set assignments and made new friends; acting as if I didn't have a care in the world. I shoved all the headaches and heartburn and fevers out the way and left them at home, where they should be. I smiled and worked with surprisingly enthusiastic determination, though mum and Pete took my attitude as a bad sign and started to worry. Mickey did occasionally bombard me with questions. Nevertheless, he gave up when I repeated the same answer and finally he actually gave me some peace. I tried and tried to forget him, but with everyone interrogating me it made me feel suffocated and it made me think of him more… It really did not help.

_"Rose, are you alright? You've lost a lot of weight, you know. It's not good for you, we can go and see a doctor if--" Mum said to me one day, cornering me in the kitchen._

_"Mum, I'm fine. If Pe... If dad's been talking to you about me. It's all not true. I'm alright; 'm getting on with my life now…" I replied bluntly._

_"You don't have to keep all your feelings bottled up, it's better if you express them sweetheart. Rose, I'm always here for you, you know that right?"_

_"Mum, just leave me alone! I want to be independent now, I'm not your little girl anymore; I've changed a lot since back then. I'm not the young girl in pigtails who came home crying, when the junior kids beat me up; I'm not the moody preteen that threw tantrums over nothing and I'm **not** the broken fifteen -year old that went out clubbing till midnight and came home half drunk. I'm **different, **can't you see that? The Doctor **changed **me… "_

_"Rose--"_

_"But NOTHING! Mum, I can't--" I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pausing. "Mum, I can't go on like this," I used my hands to gesture. "Not anymore. I've tried, tried to forget it all. Tried to forget about him, but you goin' on about how I am and reminding me about the life I lost just makes it harder for me. This isn't the life that I want; getting up late, going to work, going back home… This isn't **home.**"  
_  
Those were the types of arguments and conversations I'd ended up having with mum. It'd often end up in unwanted tears and feisty rows, but I _never _wanted it to turn out that way_._ But deep down, I knew it was true - on the outside I put on a happy, confident front to please everyone and make it seem like everything was OK - but inside, I was breaking. It was a completely different story once I got back to Pete's mansion; as soon as I'd talked to the family, had dinner and watched a bit of TV, I'd rush upstairs and not appeared again until morning. Most nights I cried myself to sleep because the memories of my old  
life kept haunting this new one and I still couldn't believe that he was gone. All those memories, all those laughs and all that warmth I experienced when I was with him had just disappeared from my life and I couldn't ever get it back. It wasn't fair.

About two months after that day, it started happening to mum again; the headaches, the temperatures and a new addition in the form of puking. Just great; I was secretly pleased, because I thought I had somebody to share my pain with. But then I took her to hospital and we found out that it was good news; mum was pregnant with another Tyler. We told Pete and he was overjoyed; Mickey soon found out and our mansion was full of happiness and celebrations. I was surprisingly excited and delighted too, because now I knew mum really did have Pete to help and support her. And that was when the side-effects were blamed on mum's pregnancy and everyone agreed, wiping their hands clean of the matter. I knew and I was sure Mickey knew that that was definitely not the  
case, as it still didn't explain our illnesses. Because you see, I wasn't pregnant, and Mickey certainly never would be. Unless they'd developed some sort of weird technology, to make men pregnant; but that was highly unlikely.

Mum was so much happier and better after that, but it wasn't the same case for me. Pete and mum thought that the pains had ended and everything was fine, excellent, and top-notch. But they weren't for me, not really. The grief decided to plague me once every fortnight for two days running, twice a fortnight if I was that unfortunate. I'd spend those nights tossing and turning in bed, with my temperature undoubtedly soaring way over anything healthy and head throbbing painfully. I couldn't stop it, no matter how many pain killers or penicillin I took, it'd harass me throughout the day and night. It was the  
same with Mickey, I could tell by the huge bags under his eyes and the same familiar weariness I had.

It developed into me having the ability to hear my heart beat loudly wherever I went, and soon enough it was like the same routine over and over. The fortnightly Sundays to Thursdays were brilliant and I was better than ever, but then came the Fridays and Saturdays which brought me a whole load of headaches and heart hammering in my ears. I didn't want to talk it over with mum in case she got worried, because I didn't want her to stress her out during her pregnancy; she was fretting enough as it was. I spent endless  
nights tossing and turning in bed; temperature sometimes running over 40 degrees, migraines overwhelming me and the occasional heart burn ruining my sleep, over all her pregnancy classes! To be honest, I didn't know why she needed them; she went through nine months with me perfectly, without any of the fuss. I was sure of it.

Then came the voices. Every night, I'd have dreams with an oh-so familiar soothing voice calling me, through a hazy mist. It was the Doctor, he was calling me. I could still recognise that voice and it felt so damn good hearing it again. It soothed all the headaches and troubles in my life; that's when I was told to follow the voice. I told mum, Pe-- dad and Mickey. We got in dad's old jeep and drove for miles, following the voice. We ended  
up in Norway, on a beach called 'Darlig Ulv Stranden'. I was soon to find out that it translated as Bad Wolf bay. Funny thing that those words still haunted me during the worst day of my life.

I met him, the Doctor, for what he said was the last time ever. But he was just a hologram, pushing through the surface, I couldn't even touch him. We had a hurried goodbye, and half of the time I was lost for words. In the end I admitted my love for him and I swore he was going to do the same, but then he faded away… I can remember that day as clear as anything, as if it happened yesterday. He had looked so alone and broken that day. It wasn't fair. I was here in Norway with my family, still crying even though I was really lucky to have people that loved me – while the Doctor was all on his own with nobody at all.

As soon as we got back to England I browsed for flats in my spare time and, when I found the perfect one, I told mum and Pete my new found decision. Mum protested at first and even dad was rather shocked, but I almost immediately coaxed them into allowing me to move out. I chose a small but comfortable looking apartment in the heart of London, quite close to work so I could still walk. It was good enough for me, and even though it was my house, I could never call it home. My home was with the Doctor in the depths of the TARDIS and London, in the Powell Estate with mum and my mates, where I spent my life before I met the wonder that took me away from it all.

But it wasn't all that easy. Dad insisted on having a look, and as soon as he scarcely glanced at the inside, he said no. He maintained his stronghold and refused to let me stay there, saying it was shabby and unclean. Instead, he bought me a huge expensive studio flat in some really posh estate. It was enormous, I tell you, and it must have cost a fortune because it was so modern. I protested and declined the proposition, because I couldn't just accept something like this out of the blue, it was unfair that he cared so much for me, even though I wasn't even his real daughter. But, I allowed it in the end, after endless debates which mum put an end to with a straightforward: "It's not good for the baby."

I moved out a month after Bad Wolf bay and _him_, going quietly without any going away party, though I still got a long weepy goodbye from mum. I promised her I'd visit often and call her, but she knew that wasn't to be trusted. I heard news, not long after, that Mickey had moved out too because he didn't want to "Disturb the family peace." I told 'im it was stupid to move out of the mansion, but he didn't listen to me and admitted that he wanted to get his own mansion so he could make his parallel Gran live with him.

Rose Tyler, a London _shop girl_ living in a studio apartment…

***

My eyes flashed in worry at the outside world, we'd just passed Park Street so that meant we had already gone past the Mortimer Estate – where my apartment was.

I leaned forward and said, "Kingsley, sorry to bother you an' all, but we've just gone past the Mortimer Estate. So if you just turn back, we can--"

"Oh no you don't, young lady," mum declared firmly, hand on my shoulder. "You're not going anywhere; you need a good feeding up, you do. Look at yourself, you're just skin and bones. There's no flesh on you at all!"

"Mum?!" I whined.

"My apologies Ma'am. So, should I turn back or…?" Kingsley inquired, looking into the mirror.

"No, no, just keep going, you're doing a great job." mum's eyes were still locked firmly onto mine. "Don't listen to a word this young madam says. Talking nonsense, Rose is. To think I'd let you just swan off and go 'ome, after all you've been through… I'm taking you back home. You need a decent meal, at least! I don't know what kinda muck they fed you at 'ospital, but it certainly didn't do you any good. I have a good mind to complain."

"Mum, it wasn't their fault; I just didn't have an appetite there. Why can't I--"

"Exactly my point! You can go home after a day or two, just not today."

"But..."

As it always was, there was no arguing with Jackie Tyler and that was for certain. It looked like I was stuck there; well, at least it gave me another excuse to see Tony. I flicked through all the different possibilities; flood the bathroom? Nah, he'd already done that. Bought an army tank off Ebay? Possible, but unlikely because he barely knew what the heck a computer was. My mind buzzed with ideas, as I wondered what the damage was today...

**A/N: - Bit long, but shorter than the last one. Thanks for reading once again and please press that lovely tempting lil REVIEW button, down there. I hope you liked it. Just to let you know, next chapter will be up pronto and the next chapter from Rose's POV will all be about Torchwood and the most recent years on this Universe.**** =D =D =D  
**


	6. Soldiers

**A/N: - OK, this is the sixth chapter. I've had trouble putting this chapter together**** so forgive me if it's not all that good. This explains part of Martha's absence. =D TTYL! KEEP ON READING! Please read and review! - Especially tap me a review, to point out any OOC...**

**Disclaimer: - I do not own Torchwood Doctor Who or the His Dark Materials Trilogy. They all belong to their rightful creators and producers and whatnot, therefore they're not mine. If they were, I wouldn't be here…**

**WARNING: LOTS OF SPOILERS FROM 'ADAM' and 'THEY KEEP KILLING SUZIE'. **_**Slight**_** reference to 'Sleeper'(Ooh and scroll down VERY VERY fast if you don't want to see any spoilers for the Resurrection Glove, the Life Knife or Suzie Costello)  
**

**UN-BETAED and oh, a special THANK YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH to sonicthecat7 for Beta-ing chapter 5. Also, thanks for all your marvy reviews. They mean a lot to me... =D**  
**HAPPY EASTER!!**

**PS:- The Resurrection Glove (for anyone that doesn't know) is a huge metal glove that's used to bring people back to life for a certain amount of time, but its properties are Alien and the Glove tried to murder somebody. They've all been destroyed.**

**Life Knife - If the victim is murdered with this particular knife, then it is easier to use the Glove to bring the person back from the dead becasue of a special connection between them. Suzie Costello (former Torchwood employee) used this knife to murder many, _many _people and was killed by Jack, when she tried to kill Gwen. She was brought back again, permanently and kept herself alive by draining the life out of Gwen Cooper.  
**

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**A/N: - OK, this is the sixth chapter. I've had trouble putting this chapter together so forgive me if it's not all that good. This explains part of Martha's absence. =D TTYL! KEEP ON ****READING****! Please read and review! - Especially tap me a review, to point out any OOC. THANKS A MILLION TO sonicthecat7, who's wonderfully Beta-ed this chapter. **

**ALSO THANKS TO EVERYONE'S WHOSE BOTHERED TO PRESS THAT BUTTON AT THE END OF THE SCREEN…**

**Disclaimer: - I do not own Torchwood Doctor Who or the His Dark Materials Trilogy. They all belong to their rightful creators and producers and whatnot, therefore they're not mine. If they were, I wouldn't be here…**

**WARNING: LOTS OF SPOILERS FROM 'ADAM' and 'THEY KEEP KILLING SUZIE'. _Slight_ reference to 'Sleeper'**

** &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Are you sure we should use that thing again, Jack?" Ianto asked for the umpteenth time in twenty minutes; a concerned expression planted on his face. "You said we weren't allowed to touch it again. You even wrote 'not for use' on the not-for-use box, which meant you were serious." Ianto didn't get a reply so he added, "Remember what happened the last time?"

Jack ignored him and continued putting the coordinates into the safe, then cheered as it clicked open. The safe was a big green thing mounted into the wall and Jack used it to store any dangerous Alien artefacts away.

He only replied after finishing up with the safe. "Suzie's time was a mistake; Suzie was deluded. None of us knew about her... guilty conscience. We're not using the knife to kill or bring back the dead this time; we're going to save someone instead. That time, it was… different. To other matters, where's Mickey?" Jack gazed around expectantly for a moment, but when he found no Mickey he yelled downstairs for the man in question. "Mickey!"

Gwen rolled her eyes and strode over to Jack's current location, trying to get a better glimpse of the knife.

Ianto pondered something for a moment. "Different, _right_. Different as in when we used that mind probe and the alien's head exploded--" The Doctor shot an alarmed glare at Jack, but the Captain replied with a shrug and mouthed 'Long story,' "… or different as in good different?"

"The second one," Jack confirmed confidently, jabbing in yet another code into a small, black box that he'd retrieved from the safe. The box puffed affirmatively and snapped open, revealing the dusty but lethal weapon that glinted in the pallid light.

It was a large silver knife with three razor-sharp blades. It still had specks of blood smeared round the edges from its previous uses. It had a beautifully designed bluish-silver hilt, studded with miniature gleaming white diamonds. Gwen stepped back in impulsive recoil; she'd forgotten all about it until now. The memories came flooding back to her; filling her mind with trails of death and destruction.

"I always forget how creepy that knife is. Still reminds me of that time with Suzie. She murdered so many innocent lives, just for the fun of it... I thought that was a long forgotten memory, but it still feels so… now." Goosebumps unexpectedly formed up and down her arms. "She tried to kill me, Jack. Twice! The first time round because she had a flaming guilty conscience and the second... just to keep _herself_ alive. She tricked me into believing her; she told me that you, Jack, were trying to kill her when it was her all along. How could I have been so stupid?"

"She's gone now," Jack said quietly. "Forget it; it wasn't your fault in the first place. We've destroyed all of the Gloves. The ones we know of, anyway. Where is that kid? MICKEY!" Jack clicked a button on his broken Vortex Manipulator and yelled a command down it. "Mickey Smith, where the hell are you? What?!... No, I don't care even if the Martians have landed. Just get your cute but enormous backside up here, NOW!"

Jack leaned back onto his desk and rubbed his forehead, looking around the room in silence. Gwen tucked a strand of her jet-black hair out of her eyes, stared at the knife, before flinching and walking away, as if that would rid her of the bad memory. Even Ianto was deep in thought, and as a result it made the Doctor feel very left out.

"Would you mind telling me what this is about? Seeing as I'm standing right here," the Doctor piped up casually, and he waved cheerily to clarify that he was there.

"It's a long story."

"Then tell it."

"OK… There was this woman, Suzie Costello; she used to work for Torchwood. We trusted her, but she betrayed our trust and it turned out that all the recent murders were her dirty work; Suzie hired her own hitmen to help her kill people. But back then we didn't know that 'cause she hid it fairly well. It was all because she wanted to use the Resurrection Glove - it's a glove that can literally resurrect life for a certain amount of time. Anyway, we found out it was her in the end and that's where Gwen came in," Jack  
explained.

"Never mind the fact that bringing the dead back should be impossible and breaks every time/space continuum law, because it weren't for the real reason I' here, I would be arguing with you tight this second, Harkness, but what happened?" the Doctor pressed for more information.

"She died," Jack continued and ignored Gwen's sceptic glare. "And then, a couple of months later, we had to revive her again because we suspected she was connected to another range of killings... Trust me, it's a _very long_ story and I'll tell you the rest later. Carrying on, back then the Resurrection Glove was still a good use to us and as you know, we brought people back to life with it. The Life Knife just came along with it as a  
freebie. Suzie used the power of the knife to drain all the energy out of Gwen, and it would've killed her." Jack saw Gwen's gulp, but chose to ignore it. "But we stopped her in the end."

"I'm sorry. What did happen to her? Oh Jack, tell me you didn't..."

"Sorry, there's nothing else you need to know, Doc. We stopped her; that's all you need to know." Jack swallowed a guilty lump in his throat and carefully lifted the stunning three-bladed knife out of its container, blowing the thin layer of dust off the top as he  
did so. "Is this baby what you were looking for?"

"Now that is beautiful! Can I take a closer look?" The Doctor pushed his glasses up further and stuck his hands out in time for Jack to hand it over to him. "Now this, this is what you call genius. It a _real _work of art and trust me, I know good art when I see it – I did work with Michael Angelo!" Jack stared at him in bemusement, but the Doctor grinned wildly at him and defended himself. "Oi, don't look at me like that, I did! You can even ask Mickey, when he gets here. Anyway, just by looking at the polished metal and all the welding joints, you can see all the time and effort put into--"

"I'm 'ere Boss. What did you want?" Mickey shouted, jogging into view.

The Doctor lost his grip on the knife due to Mickey's sudden declaration. The cool blade slipped out of his hands and soared sharp-edge first for the floor, faintly grazing Gwen's and Ianto's hands on the way down. The Doctor swiftly jumped back in time for the knife to violently stab the floor and pierce it. Just in the spot where he'd been standing; that had been a close call.

They all looked up angrily at Mickey, who was oblivious to everyone and everything in the room but himself. "I was just looking through the files on Rift activity in the recent--" He stopped and looked up properly for the first time. "_Oh_, right…"

"MICKEY!"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

_Two and a half hours later._

Two and a half hours later Mickey was busy hurrying away at the computer, searching for all the information he could find concerning the Life Knife and/or something-to-do-with-knives that-can-cut-windows-out-of-thin-air-to-other-universes. So far, he'd given up Googling it and was attempting to break into the Military files, but found no such luck - security had tightened greatly ever since the twenty-seven planets incident. Meanwhile, the Doctor, Jack and Gwen crowded over a table discussing the knife and other theories, whilst Ianto floated in and out of the Hub, each time carrying a tray of various sandwiches or a refill of milk or yet another cup of coffee.

"You still haven't told us whether this is _the _knife or not. Well, is it?" Jack enquired once again.

It had been pretty much more than two boring hours researching and trying to get a conclusion about their new found knife, but so far none of them had managed to twig whether it was the real knife or not. The Doctor was not helping one bit. He sustained ignoring Jack and used the sonic screwdriver to scan the knife further, muttering technobabble under his breath. Jack rolled his eyes and mimed strangling him, triggering a half-suppressed giggle from Gwen.

"_What?_" the Doctor said, looking up. The fact that the Doctor still looked particularly stupid, because of the fact that his glasses were dangling off the edge of his nose and a smudge of dirt lay there, didn't help Gwen at all. In actual fact, it made it worse and caused her to erupt into laughter, though she didn't have a clue as to why she was laughing so madly. "Hey! Come on, spill the beans. What's so funny about me scanning a knife?"

"Sorry, Doctor," Gwen stammered, grinning and just about managing to control her laughter.

"Actually, are you done with that thing? It's been at least half an hour since you started doing that. What's the sonic say?"

"It says nothing. It says absolutely, completely, nearly, nothing, whatsoever! _Weeeell_, nothing important, put it that way. The only thing the scan's told me is that there's a whole lot of proliferating residual energy from the last depleting of one life form transfer to another revived life form of the same value, implicating that this knife is still…" the  
Doctor paused for a breath. "… active and discharging a strong amount of metal toxins, infiltrating the air you're breathing in."

"In English?" Gwen requested.

The Doctor tucked his sonic back into his pocket and swiped his glasses off, rubbing his eyelids. "Basically, the knife is still shooting out readings from the last energy transfer, something to do with that incident with you Gwen I take it. The knife is releasing non-toxic poison into the air we're breathing, 'cos apparently it's still radioactive."

"No, I mean real English," Gwen asked again, her strong Welsh accent becoming more dominant in her speech.

"We're breathing in the knife's fumes," the Doctor stated simply.

"Thank you."

"I still don't understand the logic of this. Back on Gallifrey, when the Time Lords were still around, I never came across one of these things. Only the Time Lords or Ladies with the higher authority had the chance to use them; let alone me, I dropped out of university when I was only three-hundred and stole a type-40 TARDIS, and ran off. I hardly got to see them, let alone touch and use 'em. The first real time I saw one was when one of the Time Lords used it to try and escape from looking into the vortex, it made me even more  
nervous 'cos it was my turn straight after and I was only ooh, one hundred and something years old; long way back, it was over eight hundred years ago."

Gwen raised her eyebrows. She hated to admit it, but this man was fit and rop-dead gorgeous, but the Doctor was saying that, from what she'd managed to catch, he was over nine-hundred years old! That would seem impossible to a normal person, but she wasn't any normal person and what her years with Jack had taught her was just to smile and nod...

"Where on Earth did you find this thing?"

"It just came through the Rift, and we didn't know what to do with it at first." Jack drifted away in thought for a second and conjured up a memory, chuckling. "I still remember Tosh pouring hours into researching about it; hard worker. Not here anymore… Either way, I still don't get it. The metal is definitely alien; nothing we've ever heard of anyway. Can you recognise it?"

As soon as Jack had finished the last word, the Doctor had picked up the knife and licked it. Yes, he licked a very dangerous, sharp, valuable object without any hesitation. They all stared at him as if he was mad. Which of course, he was.

"AHA! I got you now," the Doctor exclaimed, dropping the knife back on the table with a loud clang. "I should've done that way earlier! 'Cos now I know what the metal is; Ukrabrapotolian metal. I could recognise this stuff anywhere! It's properties are one of the rarest and finest in the entire Universe; you couldn't get better quality stuff! Oh my head." The Doctor leapt up, clutching his head and babbling at 100 miles per hour. "This stuff originated from Ukrabrapota, in the Kasterborous Constellation, which meant that it was in the same galaxy as Gallifrey which gives it high possibility that, YES, it was a Window Knife! If I just analyse the data, and… Jack!"

"I'm right here." Jack replied happily.

"The knife!"

"What about it?"

"Did it come in any sort of pouch? Casing. Wrapping. Whatever! Anything at all?"

"Not that I know of…"

"I'll go check," Ianto volunteered suddenly, walking out the room. "If I can't find it, I'll get my diary."

The Doctor stared after him in bemusement. How would his diary help him? "Don't look at me!" Jack explained, hands up in surrender, as an estranged  
memory of a smirking curly-haired man flashed in his mind. "How should I know? Though, that diary has been damn useful over the years! Once it saved our lives and set us straight."

He couldn't remember how the diary had saved them, but he just knew the contents of it did. It was like a distant dream, just pressing the surface of his memory, so he couldn't quite remember. Gwen frowned at him, not sure what he was on about, but Gwen still remembered the time when Rhys, her husband, had decisively insisted that she'd gone nuts for a couple of days – not being able to recognise him at all. Of course, she didn't recollect that couple of days at all, nevertheless didn't compel her husband to give  
any more information.

"Doctor!" Mickey chimed from the computers. "You might wanna 'ave a look at this."

The Doctor spun around and dashed to where Mickey was seated, Jack not far behind. Gwen sat staring at the knife, unable to erase the memory of Suzie and the Resurrection Glove. She picked it up in her hands, gently running the fingers along the edge of the knife so as not to cause any damage. Even after that incident, Gwen, in spite of everything, felt that she still had a special bonding with the knife; the same reaction she had with the Resurrection Glove.

She'd been the only one able to master and control its power so easily. Instinctively, she picked the knife up with her hands and gasped as dozens of voices whispered elaborate exotic words in her head… The room spun around her and she could see the entire history of the Life Knife; from the gruesome murders to Suzie to Owen and to the planet with two suns and to the widely unknown - they all flashed through her head like a strip of film. Gwen could see every single event, ranging from decent to horrific, that had involved this very knife. Gwen Cooper, an ordinary Welsh descendant could see the  
entire bloody history of a knife, and Hell did it scare her…

***

In the intervening time, Jack and the Doctor stood behind Mickey who was typing furiously on the keyboard. A UNIT website popped up on the screen and a big sign in red read 'ACCESS DENIED', but with a couple more fiddles the message disappeared and Mickey had hacked into all the private files. But then the screen swiftly zipped back to its former layout (again) and the Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes. Humans.

"Mickey, this better not be a waste of time because I'm not exactly--" the Doctor started off, leaning on the back of Mickey's chair.

"Mickey, this better not be a waste of time because I'm not exactly--" the Doctor started off, leaning on the back of Mickey's chair.

"Just shut up a minute will you," Mickey muttered. "If you'd got 'ere  
quick enough, it wouldn't have locked me out; I just need to get back in  
again… Gimme two secs." The two men rolled their eyes and a question  
suddenly came to the Doctor.

"Where's Martha? Thought she came to work with you? Last time I checked  
anyway."

"UNIT," was the only thing Jack could come up with. The Doctor just  
looked at him as Jack clenched his fists in anger. "They called her out  
again. UNIT said they needed her back for a one-time mission, because she was  
one of their strongest. Martha, being the sweet person she is, accepted the  
offer. I warned her not to, but she wouldn't listen to me. I tried Doctor, I  
really did. But it's just a one off, so she'll be back in a couple of  
weeks, maybe months."

"Months? What are you on about? Where is she right now?"

"That's the problem." Jack gritted his teeth. "They sent her up to space,  
out of the Earth's atmosphere, completely unprotected. "

"SPACE! I doubt she even did any tests or training, it's been how many…  
Two days since she came back and they sent her into space!" The Doctor  
laughed at the stone hard irony.

"Yep, that's why I tried to stop her! And, before you ask, it wasn't a  
spaceshuttle either; they've used stolen technology. The Sontaran  
teleportation tech?"

"How do you know about that? Never mind, what about it?"

"They managed to salvage parts of it and fix it up, to work with human  
machinery. According to UNIT, a part of the Crucible is still intact and  
tagged along with Earth. They checked it for life forms; found nothing at all.  
So what do they do? They go and send a teleportation lock up there, and then  
they get Martha and a band of soldiers to transport there! UNIT wants them to  
gather up everything they can find, to border Earth's defenses!" Jack  
elucidated angrily, fists still clenched.

"Are they INSANE?! That's highly dangerous! Anything could happen, they  
could die on the teleportation upwards and if it's mixed with half-formed  
human machinery… What have they done?! They're sending them to their deaths!  
Have you tried to get in touch with Martha? You have to tell her to get back  
here, immediately!" the Doctor stated, absolutely furious. Oh Martha,  
Martha, Martha! What on Earth was she thinking? Brave and compassionate  
warrior, Martha was, but just a little bit too human sometimes. If his  
calculations were right the UNIT scientists would get the equations wrong;  
meaning that something would go terribly, terribly wrong! Yep, incredible  
people UNIT were, but still very thick when it came to common sense. How could  
they do that? They just send up a bunch of untrained humans to go and explore  
something lethal, without a thought and especially with human technology,  
nowadays...

The 21st century was about to be hit full-on by a major Recession, and the  
more advanced technology wouldn't be developed for another... Ooh, couple of  
decades, to say the least. A corner of his brain panicked for Martha's  
safety, but he kept it at bay. For now.

"Already tried, Doc. I haven't heard from Martha since yesterday, I've  
tried and tried but no response. I've contacted UNIT, but they're refusing  
to tell Torchwood any further – according to their sources, we are their  
vowed enemies. They don't know what they're doing. All we can do is hope  
that she, and all those soldiers with her, are alive and well. I'm sorry,  
there's nothing Torchwood can do."

The Doctor was about to start off another long debate or something geeky, but  
before he could do so Mickey made himself known. He wasn't in tune with their  
conversation about Martha, so decided to interrupt at any moment spare.

"... And, there! Not so clever now, are ya UNIT?" Mickey exclaimed  
eventually. He clicked the mouse and reclined back into the swivel chair  
smugly. "Have a look at this." The screen presented a page of military  
Myths and Legends, and it was precisely showing a link named 'The Universe  
Reaper'.

The Doctor's eyes swam across the page as he raced through the information.  
"Legend says this knife slipped through a crack in the Rift in space and  
time… Windows to new dimension… Only the chosen people of time are able to  
use this extraordinary blade… Power to hop from one Universe to the other…  
Three bladed… Acclaimed to have originated from the Kasterborous  
Constellation… myth tells that the frightened Time Lord escape…Lost…  
Claimed to be buried in Cardiff… Sighted in the heart of Cardiff…  
Weevils…" The Doctor sprung back from the screen in excitement with Martha  
all but forgotten.

"So, is this the knife? All the information on the screen matches our one,  
and why did you want to know if that knife had a casing? What's so important  
about that?" Jack asked, arms folded.

"You see, every Time Lord's possession had to have his or her name  
engraved on it, for protection." The Doctor spotted Jack's and Mickey's  
amused expressions. "Oh come on! It's like micro-chipping your dog or that  
human electronic tagging system for you… I do have to admit, it was a bit  
brash but it was a time of conflict… Any-way, if I remember correctly, which  
I do, then I know that particular Time Lord's name and I just thought if I  
could check the casing itself for any Gallifreyan symbols then I'd know  
whether it was the real knife. But now Mickey boy's found this information,  
we don't really need to--"

"JACK!" Gwen shouted with a tone of heavy apprehension. The three men  
rushed back to where Gwen was, only to find her shaking with fear; the Life  
Knife glowing a bright blue in her hands. Mickey yelped, the Doctor stared and  
Jack laughed. Then as if by magic, there was a small poof and exquisite  
complex symbols suddenly appeared on the knife's smooth surface. The Doctor  
recognised it immediately as Gallifreyan.

"I think this is the knife we've been looking for," Gwen whispered.

Completely uninformed and oblivious, Ianto wandered into the room, eyes  
deeply submerged in the small but chunky leather-bound book opened in his  
hands. He looked up.

"Woah. What have I missed?"

**_TBC…_**

_**TBC! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! Please... and have a nice easter! *cheesy grins* lol =D =D Reviews keep updates running on schedule and faster than you can say... 'molto-bene' and get chased by a Cannibal squirrel. lol! loL! I even daresay **_**flame _me if you've got the guts..._  
**


	7. Since You've Been Gone

**A/N: - If this chapter doesn't make sense to you or doesn't have any sense, I don't blame you. ****It doesn't have to, its just a LONG taster of the sort of danger, Rose got up to! THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!! Keep reading, keep reviewing and keep stuffing yourself, with Easter choccy! As always, please READ and REVIEW!! TTYL =D =D Things will be escalating from this point onwards… PM me to suggest any ideas, any at all. Every little helps!**

"What the flaming hell have you done to my kitchen?!" mum yelled furiously from the inside of the house. Kingsley helped me lug the rest of the luggage back into my house, and I swiftly sent him on his way before he could bear witness to any more of mum's ranting.

"Language!? Don't you dare language me, Doctor! What I want to know is what the hell did you do to MY kitchen? Look what you've done to it... "

Oh no… What did they do this time? I heard even more squabbling coming from the kitchen, so I dumped my luggage in the hallway and sprinted to the source of all the commotion. I stared in horror at the kitchen, gaping. Oh dear.

The entire room was filthy; cutlery, pots, pans and plates lay strewn across all the presently grubby marble worktops; flour and cocoa was scattered absolutely everywhere; a pungent burning smell wafted out the room; various areas of our grand kitchen were covered in black soot and unsuccessful meals; even the oven looked as if it had been through some sort of war. In the midst of all the trouble stood the other Doctor, covered from head to foot in flour, and next to him was a dirty, grinning, gap-toothed Tony stood proudly clutching what looked like an extremely burnt and black cake – if you could  
even call it that.

Tony caught sight of me and yelled "ROSIE!", before he charged into me, pelting me full in the stomach. I hugged him back and observed him at arm's length, rubbing a bit of butter off of his nose as I did so. His strawberry-blonde hair was sticking up, covered in chocolate chips, flour and… raisins? I tried my best to brush them out of his hair, but most of it stuck like chewing gum. What had they been doing?

"WELCOME 'OME!! This yours!" he exclaimed, pushing the plate of… cake  
into my hands. "Me and Doctor made cake for you! Eat it."

The other Doctor grinned gingerly at me from behind mum who had her hands on her hips and her back turned. His head bent in shame as he endured my mother's scolding.

"Um, thanks Tony. It's very, err... nice of you," I said as I held the cake in my hand, cringing at the unpleasant overcooked odour that the 'cake' was giving off. It smelt suspiciously like meat and raisins. "What exactly did you put in here?"

"Chicken and tatoes and milky and raisin and sugar and butter and lots of stuff. Eat!" he insisted.

I stared at the burnt thing. "Uh, maybe later Tony, yeah? I'm not hungry right now; I'll have it after dinner," I reassured him, trying very hard not to hurt his feelings as I gently laid it back down onto the table. He was so cute, but he could be very crazy sometimes. What had this Doctor been teaching him while mum'd been gone? How to bake a cake for a monster?!

"Tony, come to mummy darling," mum said, sighing and turning back around. I let Tony loose and he sprinted over to mum, who swept him up in her arms. "I sincerely have no idea how your 'babysitter' has been looking after you, but you're completely filthy! You need a bath, mucky pup. I'm going to have to call in a whole load of maids now, to fix this kitchen up." Mum twiddled with some dials on the oven, and when she seemingly found no result, grunted cantankerously. "Oh, great, I think the oven's broken too. Just  
what have you two been doing? I was only gone for a couple of hours and you manage to turn the house upside down! I give up; I'll never get this lot cleared for tonight's par—arrangements."

I had a slight suspicion that mum was planning something, but I dismissed it nonchalantly and went up to my old bedroom in Dad's mansion. I collapsed onto my old bed with inelegance and drifted into a well-earned slumber.

*^*^*^*^*

A whole year without him went by like that and before I knew it, I was twenty two. Things had properly moved on; Dad had been promoted president of a drinks manufacturing company, so he had to balance between Torchwood and Vitex –  
yes, his own drink, now famously known worldwide; Mum had given birth to a baby boy not long ago and named him Tony. He was about three months old at the present, and he had the cutest tuft of strawberry-blonde hair along with the wildest of personalities – you should've heard him when he cried; you could hear him bawling a mile away!

I now had an adept team of thirteen Field Agents, including me. They were a right happy bunch and they were brilliant co-workers, but I couldn't believe what some of their life stories were when we started talking about our lives at a dinner party.

Toshiko's was probably worst; she was only able to see her own mother once every three months, she'd no father, and she had a horrendously difficult past. Torchwood was like a new life to her, after she'd been locked up in a UNIT prison for two years of her life.

Anyway, a year had passed but nothing much had changed except for the fact that I was now independent and living in an expensive posh studio flat in the middle of London. The headaches still remained and were now etched into a weekly basis, so I spent most days sleep-deprived and tormented by headaches, dizziness and heartburn – lots and lots of it. I still didn't tell anybody, but I went to a private clinic once a month and they ran tests, but couldn't find anything wrong. So I was dumped back to hilarious amounts of  
tablets per day. I got on with my life and did what the Doctor had said himself; live a fantastic life, for him.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. I battled psycho robots, confronted deranged hypnotists, dealt with the weirdest monsters, did more paperwork than Shakespeare ever could and chased furry critters (Australian or what?!) across the country on bikes. Mind you, that particular alien helped create the Freedom Project, a secret institution on a deserted island off the coast of Liverspoon that provided a sort of reserve for any alien threats or aliens, who couldn't be sent back to their home. That deserted island turned out to be the Isle of Man in our home Universe, but on this Universe it was never found or inhabited by anyone.

The second year hurried past and on Christmas Eve that second year; I met an  
orange, carnivorous, Ood-like creature that changed my life forever. The Weevil.

_It was night time and it was the night before Christmas; the streets were crowded with last minute shoppers and my entire team was on patrol round the city centre. The Rift was open again and the readings were off the scale. We had visitors. Exactly fifteen murders had occurred that month, and the police couldn't find any leads except for the fact that each innocent victim had been practically hacked to bits. So, Torchwood was called on._

_"No guns," I ordered strongly to Fayosi as he loaded a chain of bullet into his gun and tried to tuck it back into his black flak jacket. His dark skin was illuminated in the moonlight as we stood in the alley, and I put a hand out to stop him. "We've got tranquillisers and tazors to deal with any threats. They'll be enough, we don't fight to kill."_

_"Surely you've seen the news, Rose! Haven't you seen all those freaking murders? The victims had heads and limbs ripped off; what if that happens to one of us?"_

_"It won't, trust me, so dump the gun."_

_"But--"_

_"Just do as I say, will you!" He groaned and reluctantly dislodged the arsenal's bullet, putting the dangerous contraction back into his bag. "Thank you, Fye."_

_There was a crackling from my walkie-talkie and I clicked the button to hear __Georgia__. "Rose, I thought we were meant to investigate at __10pm__? It's ten past now. Is something wrong?"_

_I glanced briefly at Fayosi and responded, "No, nothing's wrong, __Georgia__.  
We got a bit side-tracked. Go to your stations; we'll meet in __Queen Square__ if we don't find anything. Remember, no guns! We just need to contain the creature, and nothing else. 'Kay?"_

_"Yes ma'am," addressed __Georgia__ sarcastically over the intercom. "Wait, I'm getting somethin' on my tracker…" There was a long pause. "Crap, there's been another attack, on __Park Street__! We're on the other side of it."_

_"Great, we'd better get goin' now. We're nearest to __Park Street__ so me and Fayosi will head there. Tosh and Ally aren't that far away either. Don't worry."_

_"Thanks, I'll alert the others. Good luck."_

_I slipped the device back into my pocket, and Fayosi and I headed straight for __Park Street__, keeping look out for any signs of trouble. This creature was described as orange, muscular and dressed in a blue plumber's outfit – it had fit the description of a mutated form called the 'weevil'._

_Suddenly, there was an escalated scream in the crowd and I spotted a flash of orange rush right by us._

_"Over there!" I yelled. I noticed a black-haired lady stood shaking amidst the throng of people. I ran up to the frightened woman and checked her over for any injuries; she seemed fine. "What happened? Did that creature hurt you? What's your name?"_

_"I'm Mary… and n-n-no… It just growled at me and sort of ran off when I screamed. I don't know what it was. It was horrible; it was orange and had these really sharp canines. I think it was some kind of mask, but it looked too real…" she stammered._

_"It's OK, Mary. It was probably some person playing a sick joke," I lied, signalling for Fayosi. "Look, my friend Fayosi will help you. We're, uh, with the police. Do ya know which way this person went?"_

_She pointed in the direction of __Park Street__, and I inwardly laughed. Maybe this was some sort of weevil reunion or something. "Thanks a million." I turned to whisper to Fayosi. "You stay here and I mean it. Go buy this lady a cuppa coffee or something, she's in shock. Before you ask, I can take care of myself so GO!"_

_I grinned widely at the confused guy, pushed him towards Mary and sprinted in the direction I'd been shown. __Park Street__ was deserted and I couldn't see any sign of the weevil. Checking all around me, I strolled up and down the street, looking for clues. All of a sudden there was a menacing growl behind me and a rattle of bins; I whirled round to find the orange and blue thing rummaging through a dumpster in an alley._

_"OI, YOU!"_

_I dislodged a tranquilliser from my holder and locked it into position, but the creature spotted me and gazed at me with baleful eyes before running away into the park. I raced after it, determined to get the job done. It led me to the park and disappeared out of plain view, where I found Tosh, Ally, and Aryl hunched over a figure on the floor. Greg was striding up and down the grass tensely, mobile pressed to his ear as he muttered urgent pleas down the receiver. My heart sank in pity as I saw the figure on the floor was a young man in his twenties with two big chunks taken out of his leg and blood trickling down his neck where he'd been obviously bitten._

_"How many weevils? What happened?" I whispered, crouching down beside them._

_"We saw two as soon as we went out field. I've got Freya and Jacob diverting the traffic in this area. They targeted this man while he was just walking through the park and your one just disappeared round the children's playground. Greg's on the phone to the ambulance," Tosh informed me. "I don't know where the other two have gone…"_

_"His breathing's slowing down!" Aryl shouted, tone urgent. "What do we do!? Greg, when the heck's the ambulance gonna get here?! He's not going to last." Ally continued pumping at his heart, while at the same time Aryl kept comforting and talking to the poor man lying on the floor._

_"We can't let them attack any more people; I'm going after 'em," I said, tranquilliser gun at the ready. "I have to stop them."_

_"But you can't! Wait for Georgia and the others. You can't do this by yourself! They're going to hurt you…"_

_Tosh's voice faded into the distance as I ran off on the path leading to the play park. There was a fall in my step and I felt a tug at my heart as the dizziness started up again. I'd forgot, it was Friday. My vision instantly blurred and my head throbbed painfully. It couldn't start now; it wasn't fair. Wheezing,, I endeavoured to push forward, and shambled after the creature._

_In front of me was an orange and blue shape growling and hissing. Weevil. I reeled and tripped up, before heaving myself up off the floor holding out the tranquilliser gun. My mind wasn't able to tell whether it was one, two or three weevils, so I fired and by the lack of noise, missed. I massaged my eyes and made out just the one weevil in front of me, with two limping away and disappearing down a manhole in the road. A frightened little boy stood cowering in front of it. The weevil hobbled forward and lunged in to attack  
the child, but I yanked the small boy just in time and ordered him to run, to run as fast as he could and warn the people in black flak jackets._

_"Hello there," I murmured sweetly, as I edged forward and furtively inserted another dart into the tranquilliser pistol. The vertigo had subsided slightly, but still hadn't cleared enough for me not to stumble. "You probably can't understand me, but what the heck, I'm Rose and you're coming with me."_

_The creature groaned beseechingly and took a small step back._

_"No, no, it's OK. Don't be scared; I won't hurt you. It's OK, I'm just gonna knock you out and bring you somewhere safe. Shh…"_

_The weevil trusted me. I crept forward slowly, but then a shout of "ROSE!" echoed behind me and there was a loud BANG! Another BANG and a patter of feet cascaded around me. The weevil moaned with what could only be translated as plain fear. Deep pity flooded through me, and I then __realised I was probably us humans that drove them into killing, because of all our weapons and shouting. With my head playing up I could tell what the weevil felt. Even I detested and couldn't cope with the noise of shouting, guns and machinery. It hurt._

_"Stop!" I screamed, turning my head back. "Stay back; I said no guns! I'm OK. You're scaring it. Please, just keep back! LEAVE ME!"_

_They didn't listen. The weevil snarled at me before glaring at me at the betrayal and charging forward furiously. It went straight for my shoulder and mercilessly sank its canines deep into my flesh, leaving me screaming in pain and agony. I tried to pull out of its grasp, kicking the weevil out of self-__defence. But the weevil only tightened its deadly hold on me and dug its razor-sharp claws into the flesh in-between my ribs and intestines. It ached so much. I couldn't take it anymore. It ripped the material off my shoulder and malevolently continued to tear at the open flesh; all I could do was watch in torture and try to hold it back a little. Carefully, I inched my only spare fingers up my side and wrenched the tazor out of a pocket, subsequently prodding the weevil on the neck and holding down the button. The creature withdrew mercilessly and moaned, drawing back._

_"ROSE!" Fayosi's voice rung out, high above the others._

_I clutched my left shoulder in disbelief as excruciating pain flooded through me and thick crimson liquid began to pour out of the enormous open wound. The weevil had ripped all my flesh out and left me raw red and gullible. The dizziness reached its toll; my knees buckled and I fell to the floor, hitting the grass with a thud. Torchwood agents thundered about above me._

_Doctor Owen Harper, Torchwood's head doctor, knelt down beside me and I smiled up weakly at him. He was soon joined by Tosh, Aryl, Fayosi, and Michael, as he opened up his medical briefcase._

_"Hello," I whispered, cringing as my body hurt every time I tried to move._

_"I'm sorry Rose! I should've followed you, but I was so engrossed by that other victim over there and I didn't think--" Aryl started, then proceeded to sob hard._

_"Don't worry 'bout it, I'm still alive aren't I? Gave that weevil  
one hell of a scare! Where is it?"_

_"They're containing it now, whatever you did to it, it's made it weak."_

_I attempted to move again._

_"Don't move, sweet 'art," Owen warned, in his thick Welsh accent. I couldn't be bothered to give him the full credentials. He had to deal with it. "Hold on and stay with me, darling. Try not to fall asleep, Rose. Can't have the boss's daughter dying on me; I'll be sacked," he commented sarcastically, pressing a blood-pressure monitor to my arm._

_"It hurts," I groaned._

_"I know," Owen replied, nodding and pressing a warm bandage to my shoulder wound. I scowled and thumped his arm, writhing in pain. "Violent as always, I see. Nothing changes, even when you're dying."_

_He received a thick glare from the others but I managed to croak, "Shut up!". They laughed, but I could see all their faces were not in a __humorous mood. My eyelids flickered shut, but I was shook awake. "When's the ambulance coming? I need a **real** doctor or I'll die."_

_"It's nearly here Rose, try and stay with us," Aryl said, before adding, "But mister doctor over there aint too happy 'bout what you just said; look at him."_

_"You're only saying that 'cause you're deluded, Rose. Once you're better, you'll be wanting to get into my bed. Just you wait," he sniggered cheekily. Now, that was pushing it too far._

_Sick or not, I wasn't too injured to give him a piece of my mind. "You're gonna be the deluded one if you don't watch that mouth of yours and it isn't gonna be me doing the slappin'. Your girlfriend doesn't look too happy."_

_I glanced briefly at Tosh and she blushed, head bent with embarrassment. Owen answered on her behalf. "Nah, Tosh is alright. Aren't you, darling?"_

_But nothing more was said as I screeched in pain from the impact of the pressure put on my shoulder by the bandage. The aftershock. Every nerve in my body was reacting and mixing together, to form a wall of anguish against me. I winced as a sharp metal object penetrated my skin and I gave into the darkness and floated into the sinister abyss of  
unconsciousness…_

**Liked it, hated it? Well tap me a review and I'll know what I did right/wrong! Next Rose chapter concludes this one and goes into the dimension cannon and into something new altogether… My real next chapter is about Torchwood, as usual!**


	8. Distant Dreamer

**A/N: - School's on again next week so updates won't be as quick, because THEY like to load us with homework and I kinda want to get good levels at school, so yeah… ****I've decided to concentrate mostly on my two stories: **_**Allergies **_**and **_**Series Four in Yellow, Red and Brown,**_** for the moment. I'm sorry to say that I'll have to abandon Sponge Bob and the Immortal Ones for a couple of weeks, at the most, just to gather ideas for them, to plump them up. THANKS TO sonicthecat7 for the wonderful Beta-ing!!  
**

**WRIETRS BLOCK IS EVIL!!! HEEEELP, I couldn't think of a good neding to tis chapter so sorry guys. The next one will be better, I think. **

**This chappie has the spotlight on Gwen and don't worry, no character death, but some implied drama and fear. **

**READ AND REVIEW!! (THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS TOO...)  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN DOCTOR WHO!**

**TTYL, =D :P**

**

* * *

**

Minutes ticked by as the knife pulsated in her small hands, sending beads of sweat trickling down her face. The Doctor started babbling about the fact that the engraved complex signature that had just appeared was Gallifreyan and he recognised that one, it was the knife, the knife that could cut through Universes, and two, it was the knife that would save Rose.

Ianto hopped down the stairs and joined the others, a bemused look on his face. "Um, Jack, don't you think that she should let go of it now? Gwen doesn't look too good."

In fact, Gwen was looking rather queasy and appeared as if she was in some sort of trance.

"Gwen, I think you should let go now, that thing is dangerous," Jack said eventually, putting a hand on her leather clad shoulder. "Gwen, let go of the knife!"

No response.

"Gwen, can you hear me?"

Gwen bit down on her lip and whispered tautly, "I can't, it won't let me."

She gripped the knife's hilt even harder, gasping as the knife's glow brightened greatly and made a surge of sapphire blue light spread across the room.

"What do you mean, it won't let you? Gwen speak to me!" Captain Jack squatted down to face Gwen and shook her by the shoulders. "Yes you can let go, just try to forget about the knife and drop it," Jack advised, shielding his eyes while struggling to find the right words. He glanced warily at the Doctor. "Help her!"

"Oh, sorry!" he replied, suddenly searching his pockets for his sonic screwdriver. He produced it with a small whoop of triumph, and held it against the knife's metal to try and break the contact. But when his face crinkled up, Jack knew that something was wrong.

"Doctor, what's wrong? Get it off her!" Jack hissed, resisting the temptation to just yank the knife off her because he was afraid that it might hurt Gwen. Instead, he gingerly reached out to slowly detach Gwen's reddening hand, but his fingers slipped and collided with the ice cold metal of the knife. Jack hissed, rubbing his hands from the horrid arctic sensation running through his body. "Damn it, that is cold! Gwen is going to freeze to death if we don't do something fast. Mickey, I want you to find out everything you can about this knife and why this is happening to Gwen. That's an order, now move! Ianto, go find a pair of tongs or tweezers or just SOMETHING! And hurry!"

"Yes, sir," Ianto obliged, jogging up the steps and heading toward the autopsy bay.

"On my way, Boss," Mickey said, rushing off to the computers.

"Doctor, can't you do something?" Jack said with urgency. He felt Gwen's cheek and found that her bodily temperature was just like the knife. Glacial cold. So he still couldn't understand why sweat was pouring down her forehead. Gwen didn't react at all. "This girl is freezing over! Doctor!? A little help?"

The Doctor immediately directed the sonic to the throbbing light, and shrunk back as the icy temperatures pushed him right back. There was only one way to do it.

"Jack, can you trust me?"

"Yeah of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

"I'm going to have to make Gwen unconscious for a little while, go into her mind maybe. It's the only way I can think of, because maybe a dormant body will deactivate the knife's charge and release her grip! I don't know what's happening, 'cause as I told you, I don't know how these knives work. I can't promise you that something won't go wrong, I'm sorry Jack, but this is the only way. Do you trust me Jack?"

Jack inhaled a breath and nodded; he could trust the Time Lord. The Doctor wouldn't lie – not when somebody's life may be in danger. The Doctor turned Gwen's motionless head around him and put his fingers to her temples. He checked that her eyes were shut and proceeded to close his own eyelids, right before entering her mind.

He tried to put her into a sleep or an unconscious form, but her mind was too strong. It was like the knife was making a connection to her and preventing him from digging as far as he needed to, to help. He had no choice but to break the barriers and he delved straight into her mind. The Doctor pushed past memories and incidents and lies and problems, heading straight for the eerie blue light that throbbed in the distance.

He finally reached the light and was ready to enter when…

"Doctor, are her eyes supposed to be open?" Jack asked.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open to find Gwen's small piercing black orbs staring right through him.

"Doctor, what's happening to me?" stuttered Gwen unsteadily. As her mind burned with power images of the knife's history rushing through her head, over and over again. It wouldn't stop.

"Gwen, Gwen, listen to me." He pressed harder to her temples, careful not to push too hard. "Just listen to me, everything's going to be alright. Now I want you to tell me what you can see, is that alright? Can you tell me why I can't enter your mind?" Gwen's attention seemed to keep drifting every ten seconds and her concentration only came back when the Doctor used his mind to bring her consciousness back; Jack looked anxiously at her reaction from the side and watched as the knife pulsated even more.

"Doctor, what's happening to her? She's sweating, but her skin's ice cold. You have to do something!" he yelled in desperation.

"Captain, just let me do what I have to do." He turned to Gwen, whose eyes x-rayed straight through him and into the world of oblivion and reverie.

"I can see…" Gwen started off. "I can see mountains, swinging mountains and an auburn burnt sky, held in orbit by gorgeous twin suns, shining down on the valleys and mountains..."

The Doctor looked at her in shock. She wasn't meant to see that. From her description, he could tell that she was talking about his home planet, Gallifrey. The land of the Time Lords. But how could she? That was impossible, surely.

*^*^*^*^*^*

_Gwen's story._

As soon as she had just made the simplest contact with the knife, Gwen knew there was something extraordinary because a cool fuzzy sensation had rippled down her spine and caused her brain to fall into a state of numbness. Gwen knew that feeling, and she couldn't rid of it; it was the same feeling that occurred when she wore the glove to bring the dead back to life. She didn't know how or why it happened, but Gwen knew that she was different and that was why she could use the glove so easily and why the knife had reacted to her. Gwen had a special connection.

As everyone departed from their place next to Gwen, she was left isolated with the knife and she simply couldn't resist the temptation to reach out and touch the metal blade. She didn't know why she felt this way, because of all the pain and horror Gwen had to go through during her previous relations with the object.

She picked the knife up in her hands, running the blade up and down between her fingers. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right – all at the same time. She couldn't understand it. Then the knife sort of reached out to her mind and the two unities clashed together in an explosion of light, fire and ice, rolled into one.

The knife pulsated an astonishing but beautiful icy blue light and throbbed on top of her fingertips. A sudden blast of cold swept through Gwen and she wasn't in control anymore. Gwen could see the whole life of the knife itself blaze through her, flickers of death, destruction, fire and ice, landscapes and worlds that were so far away. The woman was frozen stiff and icing over, but somehow beads of sweat still managed to pour down her forehead.

The muffled voices of the Doctor, Mickey, Ianto and Jack flooded around her, but she was unable to properly contact them, because she didn't want to let go of the power – she craved more. She ignored Jack's warnings and tried to communicate with the Doctor, but the words wouldn't come out of her.

Instead, Gwen let the man called the Doctor go into her head and try and enter her memories. He failed, so Gwen told him what the frost in her eyes really meant and told him what she saw…

*^*^*^*^*^*

_Gwen was walking through thin wisps of the most radiant red grass, not quite believing where she was, but her conscience told her to keep calm and just go with the flow. So she did. The sky was an elegant burnt auburn colour with thick red clouds, and the planet itself was orbited by two gorgeous burning twin suns, shining in the distance. Gwen brushed her hair back as the cool breeze of the wind tickled the back of her neck and she kept walking until the world suddenly jerked all around her and she came to a halt._

*^*^*^*^*^*

"I can see…" Gwen started off. "I see mountains, swinging mountains and an auburn burnt sky, held in orbit by gorgeous twin suns, shining down on the valleys."

The Doctor looked at her in shock. That was impossible! Gwen Cooper was a Welsh woman of an ancestry going back to the 19th century but that was all, she was just an ordinary human. She wasn't supposed to see this. It shouldn't happen!

"The City, it shines like the sun and the moon and the stars put together and contained are the Lords of Time – the great lonely deities of Time itself. I can see the world at their feet; the past, the present, the future. It's all in their heads. But…" Gwen's eyes suddenly crinkled up with fear.

*^*^*^*^*^*

_Gwen wiped the bead of sweat off her forehead and continued walking, but stopped at an enormous transparent dome. The City of the Lords of Time. Gwen pressed a hand forward to feel the shield, but the bubble rippled and slowly disappeared, like when you dropped a pebble into a pond and the picture faded away. There was a tugging in the corner of her mind and it pulled Gwen abruptly into some sort of field. But in the middle of the field was the vortex, the hole in Space and Time that shone like the stars but was as dark as night itself._

_A small child, looking around the age of ten stepped forward. But looks deceived as the child was actually one hundred and fifteen years old. This was the inauguration ceremony and behind the young child, behind a protective seal, were two dozen other Time Lords all queuing up for the big moment._

_The child up front was small and had glittering blue eyes that twinkled in the stifling heat, with a mop of chestnut brown hair and had a skinny frame, with tanned legs and arms. He was dressed in magnificent robes of the finest material, with elaborate patterns embroidered onto the rich silky material that ended at his ankles and had a cuff that towered high above his head. But this child was scared, he had heard that Time Lords and Time Ladies that had gone through this process had gone mad and turned deranged for life. But this child had a plan; more precisely, this child had a knife…_

_He had a knife that could cut through the Universes._

*^*^*^*^*^*

"I'm scared, I'm so scared," Gwen gasped, "It's my turn next and I'm sweating in the heat. The adult Time Lords are urging me forward, I can see my mother in the distance but she's… walking away. I call out to her, but she's already teleported and I'm alone… I'm so alone, left to face trial, left to look into the heart of the vortex. It isn't fair. My hand crawls down to my side…"

"Doctor, what's happening to her? What is she talking about?" Jack said urgently. "It's as if…"

"She's seeing through the eyes of the Time Lord that ran way. I don't know how but Gwen is looking into the knife's past. "

*^*^*^*^*^*

_Gwen pressed herself forward, hand trying to reach out to the lost little boy but was only charged back by an invisible shield. She watched as the one-hundred year old child stepped forward, by a push from the elder Time Lords. A blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and the boy, yet again, was forced to walk forward. Suddenly, he came to a halt in front of the… vortex._

_Gwen observed in awe as the boy stuck his hand under his robes and she saw that he had his grip of the knife. The elder Time Lord started to remove his blindfold, but as soon as it came off the child ran forward and produced the knife, running away from the eye of the vortex. He couldn't do it…  
_

"I'm so scared, so scared. The elder removes my blindfold and I run away, faster than anything, as far away from the vortex as I can get. I clutch the knife in my hands and…"

*^*^*^*^*^*

_Gwen followed the child as he clutched the knife in his hand and shut his eyes, making gestures with the knife in the air. All around chaos erupted and everybody rushed around. The elders ran after the boy but this child was not phased, he carried on swishing his hand in the air like he was carrying a magic wand. Gwen shouted out warnings and pleas for the child to stop before he got caught, but the child couldn't hear her._

_He carried on and then there was an enormous bright light that sent a charge of force, repelling all the other Time Lords back and away from the child. A window had appeared and the child took one last look at his home planet and stepped through the window, into a new world of bedlam…_

_Planet after planet flashed through her head but these weren't important. These were just the dents in Time and Space that the knife caused, the scene that she was about to witness happened down on planet Earth. The knife cut through Universe to Universe, different owners and different surroundings until one day… came the darkness. The Time War; the Time Lords rushed back to their home planet and the knives were destroyed, after endless debates. But one knife had disappeared without a trace and escaped the fire._

_The knife was the only left in existence and was sent hurtling through space. It burned as it flew as a lone survivor. Then it dropped through a crack in Space and Time, the Rift, making the crack into a fracture, letting the weevils in...._

_Gwen felt the same familiar tugging and she was pulled into another dilemma, this time in the modern day and she knew what this was._

*^*^*^*^*^*

"I'm Suzie, Suzie Costello. It's dark and I'm in somebody's house, I've got two men behind me and I'm… I'm carrying a knife…"

*^*^*^*^*^*

_Gwen followed Suzie as she entered the house and tiptoed into the living room. Suzie put a finger to her lips and ordered her men to stand guard while she entered the living room. The TV was blaring and a young man in his twenties was sat on the couch, absorbed in the football match. He didn't see Suzie come up behind him._

_Gwen screamed and yelled for the man to get out of the way, but it was no use... Before you knew it, the knife was plunged straight into the man's back and painfully ripped back out, as the man writhed in pain and shouted in agony. Gwen couldn't watch as the knife dipped into the man's back once more. This was sick._

_There was a whir in the air and a change of the wind, another murder. Gwen knew this one now, it was the murder in which she had witnessed for the first time Torchwood and their resurrection glove. The man walked down the street, half drunk after spending three hours at the pub. Then came Suzie, she strode purposefully to the front, beckoning her hitmen, this time it was them. The murders had gotten too common and people would start suspecting soon, so she pried the knife out of her bag and handed it over._

_Thirty seconds, that's all it took to take away somebody's life. Life wasted. Murder after murder, Gwen was pulled to and forced to witness. She couldn't take it, she wanted to stop it all so badly but she couldn't, because these were just memories._

_And then…  
_

"It's me, and I'm looking down at someone. I'm looking down at… Suzie."

*^*^*^*^*^*

_This time the memory was brief; Gwen stood in a shadow in the Hub, watching herself, Jack, Ianto, Tosh and Owen fuss over Suzie's dead body. She saw Owen give her the glove and she watched in reminisence as she revived Suzie's body. The memory fast forwarded as Suzie was brought back to life and didn't die. Gwen watched herself grow weaker, she followed herself and Suzie as they drove away in the SUV. She watched as Suzie tried to kill her; she watched when Jack, Ianto, Owen and Tosh arrived and killed Suzie. Again._

_Two words echoed in her head: "__Chosen__ One." And Gwen fainted._

*^*^*^*^*^*

Gwen's eyes reeled back into her head and she collapsed onto the table, the knife falling out of her palm as she did so.

"What did you do to her?!" Jack shouted in fury, rushing to Gwen's aid.

"I didn't do anything!" the Doctor retorted in protest. "It happened of its own accord. I've told you before and I'm telling you again Jack. I. Didn't. Do. This. Have you got a spare room or anything? I need to check her over, see if there's any mental damage."

Just then Ianto walked into the room. A pair of welding tongs, a tiny pair of tweezers and two salad forks in his hands.

"Sorry, I couldn't find anything else," he stated.

"Ianto, thank goodness. Come over here. Help the Doctor carry Gwen up to my office; I'll open up my room…" Jack said to him, patting him on the shoulder and running upstairs.

Ianto took Gwen by the head and the Doctor by the foot, and together they heaved her up to Jack's Torchwood bedroom and laid her down onto the bed, where she proceeded to toss and turn, muttering under her breath.

"What's wrong with her?" Jack asked, stroking her cheek. "She's still cold, but she's still sweating. Doctor, answer me, what is going on!?"

"I don't know, Jack. I wish I could tell you, but I can't." The Doctor fumbled around in his pockets for a moment and then pulled out a stethoscope. He put the earpieces into his ear and placed the remaining part to her chest – her heart rate was normal. "I think she's in shock."

"Jack, I found somethin'!" Mickey said, entering the room with a fistful of sheets. "I printed them all off, 'cos I thought you'd need 'em. What the hell happened to her?" Mickey pointed at Gwen.

"Long story, now hand over those sheets," Jack said hurriedly, grabbing the information off Mickey and scanning through them. "But that's impossible."

"What is it?" the Doctor asked, eyes flicking over to Jack.

"Listen to this: Legend has it that there will come a time when the knife will bond with a selected host, the process is acclaimed to involve the host held in some sort of trance while the bonding partner is given all the information and is unlocked to all the secret and mysteries of the knife. The legend calls this host to be the--"

Gwen's eyes snapped open and she sat up, to everybody's surprise. "The chosen one."

* * *

**T****he next chapter (Rose's POV) is just to sum up all the findings of the Dimension Canon and how her life changed after the weevil incident. The Rose POV chapter after that one is going to probably be the hardest one to write, but I won't tell ya why… **_**yet. **_**Tap me a review if you liked this or hated it. This is gonna sound really deranged, but flames are very much welcome! Lol :D**

**Question Time: Who dislikes/hates/pities authors who give themselves reviews?**


	9. I'm Not Dead

**A/N: - Firstly, apologies, apologies and EVEN MORE apologies… I know I should've posted this way back, but the evil creation of Stalag 14 reopened on****ly on Monday and they've already been fattening us with homework, vegetables and tests. LOL! So, here it is, I thought I'd better get this done before I stick it to the back of my list again. Unfortunately, there's not much dialogue in this, so I'M SORRY again if all the text bores you… lol Hope you like it!**

**PS: - SPOILERS FOR THE APPRENTICE! I don't know if it's just me but I absolutely positively CAN'T WAIT for **_**The Apprentice **_**tonight. Paula got chucked off last episode and I really want Ben to go, he's been in the Board room like three or four times **_**already**_**. But I really don't like Yasmina, she's way too bossy and Debra's just the big, bad bully, aint she? Ah well, I've filled up ¾ of my author's note with this, so I'd better shove off now.**

**PPS: - **_**'Series 4 In Yellow, Red and Brown's **_**filler is going to have to be put on hold for a bit! Sozzy, I'm in the middle of tapping it up now but due to: an R.E test, a Maths test and levelled Science thingy, it's all messed up at the moment. **

**OH AND SOMEBODY PLEASE PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THOSE **_**VOID DISKS **_**OR UNIVERSE HOPPPERS, WERE REALLY CALLED! Because, I honestly can't remember and will keep getting it wrong until someone corrects me… lol**

**Read and review if you can!! =D =D**

* * *

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One day later I woke up to find myself strewn in an tremendously hard  
hospital bed, dressed in blue and white standard hospital scrubs with five  
sets of anxious eyes staring at me. Fayosi was there blaming himself for  
listening to me, Mum was in hysterics and babbling like hell, Mickey was sat  
by my bedside muttering something I couldn't hear, Owen was there just to  
check up on me, and Dad, well he was being very err… fatherly.

I had to stay like that for about two weeks, trundling around the place with  
an IV and having Mum, Mickey or one of Dad's bodyguards with me at all  
times. They still worried for me like crazy, even though it was highly  
unlikely that a weevil would come barging into the hospital, just to take  
another bite out of me. I already had a stitch on my head where I'd fallen  
to the ground, five stitches where its claws had dug into me, hard, and a  
drowsy smelling antiseptic bandage coiled around my shoulder a little too  
tightly, so I was forced to wince every time I moved my arm. After the final  
nod from the chief doctor, luckily not Owen Harper, I was released back into  
the real world again and I vowed never to set foot in a hospital for as long  
as I lived. But hey, life never worked out the way you wanted it too…

By his and her majesty's orders, (i.e. Mum, Dad and the hospital), I was  
reluctantly cooped up at home for the following week and left to sit in front  
of the telly, lazily slobbering over pointless TV programmes. I couldn't  
even get up to do any paperwork or spare work, because Mickey had obeyed  
Mum's instructions and locked up my laptop, PDA and anything else that could  
be used to work – in order to let me rest. I reckoned it was just a step too  
far, but Dad even hired a flipping maid to do all the housework for me, and  
Mum came over to make me lunch and to pop dinner in the fridge!

Even when I was allowed to work again, it was like prison half the time,  
because I had to be 'accompanied' by a Torchwood officer every time I went  
somewhere or tried to do a lone assignment; someone even had to follow me when  
I went out for lunch! It was like I had to have a little puppy following me  
around everywhere I went! I even went to Dad to beg for some slack, trying the  
usual:

"You wouldn't be doing this for any of the other employees! I bet if  
Brenda the cleaner got bitten by a venomous… spider or summat, you would  
turn a blind eye."

But he'd obviously come prepared, much to my chagrin. His reply had been,  
of course:

"Yes I would. I'd give the same treatment to each and every one of my  
employees; cleaner or field agent! I'm just worried about your safety, love,  
and so is your Mum!"

I wasn't so sure about the 'same treatment' part, but I had nothing  
good to debate and everything else I came up with just evaporated into  
nothing. If anything, I was stupid enough to make the conditions even worse  
and I was sure he sent people to check on me. But if that wasn't enough, I  
still had to go down to the Medical Bay to have regular examinations by Owen.

That doctor didn't fail to insolently flirt with me every time we met, and  
he only stopped when I threatened to snitch on him to Tosh; it felt good to  
see him so scared. I wouldn't really have told on him, 'cos I didn't  
wanna break up a good relationship, but a girl had to do what a girl had to  
do. Everything else, except for my weekly visits, was perfectly fine. Even  
good old Mum calmed down a bit – allowing me to cook my own meals and  
babysit little Tony when she and Dad had nights out.

Things only took a turn for the worst…

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The Rift readings started going haywire and shot out all these crazy  
evaluations, spitting out impossible and implausible results from the printer.  
Then the weevil attacks started again. At first we just thought it was a  
confused group of them, eloping the sewers. But then the murders got thicker  
and thicker, more and more blood spilt up and down the country – this  
wasn't any ordinary assault.

The weevils were somehow seeping through open cracks in all the major cities  
of Great Britain, causing chaos to erupt in all Torchwood companies because  
there was supposed to be only two weak spots where the Rift ran through;  
London and Cardiff. However, all those Rift readings and weevil attacks  
pointed to the only plausible solution; Rift openings were sprouting all over  
the country…

Soon enough, all sorts of weird enigmatic eccentric objects and aliens alike  
started to ooze through the cracks in Time and Space. It was like a living  
hell. Temporary Torchwood camps had to be built up and down the country,  
joined by an assortment of adversaries from UNIT. We were forced to work extra  
hours in order to contain the situation and protect everyone from any danger,  
struggling day and night to get the work done. I scarcely got any sleep  
because of the hassle – from both the Rift situation and the pains that  
never failed to plague me once a fortnight. The people got more wary as the  
injured and dead tolls rose higher and higher, as it almost became impossible  
to stop the outbreaks. But just one month later it all calmed down and  
suddenly everything was at peace. Weevils went back into hiding. But this was  
just the dynamic music before the explosion…

The annual Torchwood analysis came out and that's when my old life started  
to collide with my new. The Breach was active and the walls of the Universe  
were breaking down....

Then came the explosion.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

I wasn't actually sure whether to laugh or cry. On one hand, if it was open  
it meant that Universe travel was possible and I could find the Doctor, but in  
contrast the entire Universe itself was in terrible danger and that meant  
something was very very wrong, meaning we were all going to die. Those  
desolate distant words echoed in my mind; the whole thing would fracture, the  
Universes would collapse.

The Torchwood Scientists were permitted to research more on it, to try and  
find out what was happening with the Universe, but that was it. Dad chose to  
ignore the fact that the Breach was active again and requested that the  
situation was to be disregarded until further notice, because according to  
him, the country's people was still the top priority. He only permitted us  
to investigate any shapes of danger the Breach established and study why it  
was open again, but that was all. He never asked or ordered for any new  
projects to be created, so we took it as a sign that he wanted to ignore it  
for as long as possible.

I tried to push my luck one time when I went round the mansion for dinner. I  
casually asked him about the research on the Breach, pretending to be  
extremely interested when he started yapping on about his profits and stuff,  
but attempting to squeeze some more juice out of him. He wouldn't budge, but  
when I finally hit the nail and came round with the down right answer:

"Are we gonna try Universe travel again? I mean now the Breach is open  
again."

Huge faux pas. Mum sighed and Dad started on again with his famous, "I  
thought you'd got over him" speech. In the end, I managed to find out that  
1) he didn't want me getting all hopeful again, 2) he just wanted to find  
out what was going on, because this wasn't supposed to be happening, and 3)  
he didn't want anything else to be done, because according to him, Universe  
travel could be very dangerous now.

So all in all, there was no point even bringing it up! It was obvious that he  
didn't want it to happen because of me. I had gotten over him, but why they  
couldn't understand that I wasn't going to get hopeful?! (Well, not openly  
anyway). I attempted to win over Mum, but being Jackie, she knew my intentions  
immediately and refused to be any part of it – agreeing with Dad. I was  
surprised Mum didn't sense it in the first place because they didn't know  
what power they'd just unleashed and cheerfully welcomed… The Jackie Tyler  
genes. Stubbornness and determination. They weren't gonna stop me now!

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

In the next couple of weeks, I set up my own secret organisation to  
investigate the Breach and transport between different dimensions, gathering  
up all the different people I could find. By day, I sat behind my desk  
cheerfully and survived out-field missions with enthusiasm; acting as if  
everything was normal and nothing err… suspicious was going on at all. (As  
if it was a crime. I stopped the happy-go-lucky behaviour because the other  
workers started giving me the eye and even Dad stopped to ask if I was  
alright…)

And by night, I had my own band of fighters by the names of Mickey, Jake,  
Imelda (Scientist), Tosh, Aryl, Saloni (Scientist), Gareth, Andes and myself,  
obviously. We sacrificed sleep twice a week, to properly research what was  
going on and investigate further on the Breach. The proof we'd cropped up so  
far showed that travel between different Universes could presently be done,  
because something had made the walls of the Universe weak and slowly falter.  
We tried to examine the damage done so far, but we didn't go into it too  
much because that wasn't our main mission. Our major aim, as I so humbly  
managed to persuade myself, wasn't just to find the Doctor, but to stabilise  
the safety of the human race and find out what on Earth we were up against –  
trying to protect this world's defences.

But the times when we were all together was what I loved and cherished most.  
All of us just tucked away at night in Torchwood, cosily chatting, laughing  
and working amongst ourselves. There was no tension, no pressure and no  
blooming order, just simple happiness and laughter. It made me feel like I was  
on cloud nine, and back in reality again. For that one time, I could actually  
fool myself into thinking that I was back in the Powell Estate, just hanging  
out with all of my close friends and family; doing the usual, spending  
evenings out and shopping down town. But it was so much more…

The annoying bouts of headaches, stomach cramps and heart burn died down all  
of a sudden, and I couldn't help but have the feeling that it had something  
to do with the Breach being open again. It was like I was alive again. Yeah, I  
was gaining huge unwanted panda eyes, but it was worth it.

When it came back down to personal issues, the members of Preachers Revived,  
as Jake and Mickey were so keen on calling it, had their limits. No one would  
strain more than two or three nights a week, dedicated to this and that was  
it. I had to understand that they all had their own private lives and love  
interests, and I couldn't stop them from living a life – just 'cos I  
couldn't have mine back. Even Mickey agreed…

So I spent most of the remaining nights in my huge old flat, staying up and  
doing my own research. Things were all going well and we were all on the right  
track, careful not to arouse suspicion in the office and avoiding any talk  
about it in working hours. We'd even made a huge jump in our project. Imelda  
and Saloni, being the stars that they are, had managed to scrutinise alien  
technology to combine it with ours! So far, our plans were heading in the  
right direction and we'd already worked out a blueprint for the travel  
device we were building. I'd insisted on calling it the Dimension Cannon  
because of the shape of the intended object, and the name just clicked when it  
came to my head. Hell, just the basic structure was complicated and the  
design... well, that was complex, but if we worked together it wouldn't be a  
problem at all.

Not long after, the first stage of the Dimension Cannon was complete and all  
they needed was a test subject to try it out… I volunteered straight away  
and, after a whole lot of debating between myself and Mickey, it was final.

"Rose, you absolutely sure you're ready?" Tosh asked for the umpteenth  
time that evening, rushing from one strange apparatus to the other, generally  
firing the odd command at Gareth, Saloni and Andes at the computers as she did  
so.

"For the last time Tosh, yes! Never been more ready," I exclaimed  
happily, tightening the straps of my uh… backpack. Well, it wasn't really  
a backpack in real terms; it was a bag filled with wires and different  
compontents with a significant small silver object strung onto it. The first  
stage: teleporter.

"Rose, think this through again. Somethin' could go wrong! Let me or Jake  
use it. What will I tell Jackie if somethin' happens to you!?" Mickey  
argued, stepping forward.

"Nothin'," I hissed through gritted teeth. "'Cos nothing will  
'appen to me. This is my chance, nothing will go wrong. Yeah, it's  
untested, but how does anythin' ever get done if you say no all the time?  
All I'm gonna do is transport from here to another room, for goodness sake,  
Mickey! It's perfectly safe, righ' Tosh?"

"No, not really. We haven't ever used this technology before and there  
might be some side-effects and it would be best not to--" Tosh replied,  
though upon noticing the look on my face, she continued, "... Anyway, as  
long as you're OK with this--" She clacked over to another huge machine  
with a lever. "--then I'm just going to stabilise the fielding pattern and  
you'll be set. I just hope that works."

"It better!" Aryl agreed, chuckling with mock defiance. "I nearly got  
fried by some flippin' laser, just by trying to get your alien-loop thing. I  
thought that security guard was gonna spot me!" Two minutes later, the machine  
was powered and everyone around me gave me the thumbs up and rewarded me with  
smiles – even Mickey gave in, in the end.

"Now!"

"Wish me luck," I muttered as a huge light beam shone down on me. I  
clamped my hand down on the blue switch, squeezing my eyes shut, only to open  
them again to find myself falling through a never-ending loop of black with  
pain ricocheting throughout my head, sending a horrid queasy feeling through  
my stomach. Popping the capsule that Imelda had supplied in my mouth, I landed  
on the ground with a gentle thud on my knees, hands out to steady my balance.  
Dizziness spread throughout my head and I cleared my vision to find that I was  
in a huge white room, covered head to foot with alien gadgets and fancy LCD  
screen computers. YES! It had worked; I'd transported.

The whole lot of them clattered into the room, gasping in shock and joy to  
see my bum sticking out and rather sore, but safe.

"Now that is not a pretty sight," I heard Gareth tease. Everything  
evolved quickly out of that and the whole dizzy, blackness thing soon  
disappeared into nothing, and everyone managed to grab their chance to have a  
go. We couldn't make any other parts or make anything else, because we all  
reckoned that Torchwood had suspected the alien artefact had gone missing. We  
didn't want someone on our tail if something else vanished from sight.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

So I owned up and our happy weekly gatherings were ceased. The Preachers  
Revived was shut down for good. After a whole lot of arguments and debating,  
all eight of them reluctantly shuffled out, muttering unnecessary apologies  
under their breaths. They didn't need to take the blame.

He wasted a whole flaming hour lecturing me about the importance of sleep,  
and interrogated me a hundred times over as to why I'd done this without his  
permission. I didn't say anything. Dad went on and on about how dangerous  
the teleportation scheme was and its immaturity. He also had a go at me about  
his employee's welfare and then, it hit me... I suddenly felt so guilty  
about practically compelling everyone to come to those meetings, and making  
them give up their own free time (and sleep) for me and my personal desires.

It was true; my whole intentions were to try to find the Doctor all along and  
I'd caused so much trouble for everyone along the way, just for doing that.  
I thought I'd forgotten about him and moved on, all that time ago, but I was  
wrong. I was still clinging onto the old life that I could never have back...

I started to understand my father and forgive him; but then he made the  
almost lethal slip-up of telling Mum. Big mistake. Mum spent endless  
conversations over the phone and up personal, nagging me to death about  
insomnia and illnesses and bags and stuff. OK, maybe I wasn't so overjoyed  
about the charcoal panda-like rings that started to form under my eyes, caused  
by lack of sleep, but I could look after myself. It was my own choice and all  
those nocturnal meetings didn't make much difference because I couldn't  
sleep half the time anyway. I admired Mum's ego and concern for me greatly,  
honoured that she cared for me so much. But I didn't need all of her  
attention and nurturing anymore; I was an adult now. She needed to understand  
that…

Our cosy little organisation was shut down for good and everybody was shoved  
out the offices after nine and not allowed back in until the following  
morning. I didn't speak to Dad for a week, and only then did I murmur the  
occasional 'Mornin'' or 'Here's the file you wanted'. One day I  
was called to his office. I found him seated behind his classy furnished  
pine-wood desk, his chin resting on interlocked hands, his face holding a  
deadpan expression. Uh-oh, I bet anything that he'd found out about it.

"Rose, you can sit, you know?"

I took a deep breath and sat down, ready to explain everything. "Look, I  
know why I'm here an' I'm 'ere to tell you that I did not do it! It  
wasn't me." I put my hands up in surrender. "I was just an innocent  
bystander, just watching the show; I was scarcely involved, look. If  
anythin', blame it on… Fayosi and Elianna! I refuse to take the blame!  
They came up with the idea in the first place an' I don't mean to be a  
snitch and everything, but I am not going to get the blame this time for  
something they did. I told them it was stupid but would they listen, no? They  
never listen to me an'--"

I looked up at him properly for the first time that day, flushing as my rant  
came to a close, only to find his face creased up in a perplexed state.  
Whoops, maybe he didn't know. My mouth dropped. "Oh… You don't know  
what the hell I'm talking about, do you?"

Dad shook his head. "No, and I don't want to find out, either."

My face burned darker and I muttered, "Sorry, I just assumed…"

"Don't worry. The real reason why I called you here today is because we  
found your blueprints for that Dimension Cannon you were tryin' to build,"  
he explained simply, nudging forward a big familiar violet folder filled with  
big fat wads of paperwork.

"Great," I replied, taking a quick peep at the files, before pushing them  
back to him. "Look, if you've come to ask permission to burn them, no  
need, you go ahead! I encourage you. I don't care, 'cos I'm just not  
bothered anymore an' you're the boss around 'ere." I sighed and arose  
from my seat, tucking the chair in and slowly walking away.

"Rose, if you'd just let me talk, then maybe you'd understand," he  
called after me, forcing me to roll my eyes and retrace my steps. I sat back  
down again and clenched my fists under the table; I wasn't prepared to be  
interrogated about the same matter, not again. I'd only just recovered from  
the last time. "The thing is, I've had a look through these folders and  
all this work you've been doing…"

"The point?"

"Sorry, I've seen those blueprints you've drawn out and to me, it looks  
phenomenal; the designs are so complex and detailed. I can't imagine how you  
and your team did all this, it's just…" he used a gesture of hands to  
demonstrate and it made me even more interested. What was going on? "So I  
had a meeting with the Torchwood scientists and showed them the designs to  
this Dimension Cannon and well, they agreed, they said that this design could  
actually work and its properties are complex but can be assimilated, in  
reality.

"They said it was amazing, in fact! I know I was hesitant and harsh on you at  
first, but it was for your own sake and I only wanted the best for you. But  
now… I've reconsidered and I've had a conference with all my  
shareholders and advisors, and we've come to a conclusion. We've decided  
to squeeze the budget a bit, and… go ahead with this project." I  
couldn't believe what I was hearing! He actually wanted to help build the  
Dimension Cannon, after all he'd said? A smile played on my lips, but I  
narrowed my eyes to check that he wasn't just pulling my leg and about to  
launch into some fatherly 'Health&Safety' speech.

"Rose, I'm not joking, this is for real. I want to help you build this  
Dimension Cannon."

My face erupted into an enormous grin and I bounced out of my seat to pull  
him into an unexpected hug, and he responded with an awkward pat on the back  
and a warm squeeze.

"Thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU!" I shouted with joy, as I ran off about  
to pull on the door handle.

"No problems love, but do us a favour and just don't tell Jackie, will  
you? You know how Jacks is and she'd go mental."

I gave him the cheesy old, "Trust me on this", emphasising my happiness  
with a waggle of thumbs. This was great!

"You can go and tell them now. They're hiding behind the blinds, probably  
wandering if you're alive or not. Go on." I shot him another grin and  
dashed out, but planted a grim expression on my face. They fell for it.

"Crap, he totally found out, didn't he?" Jake sighed, before grinned  
cheekily. "I told you it would all end in tears." I felt like punching him  
playfully and laughing along with him, but I kept my face sombre and shot him  
daggers – causing him to hush up.

"Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry!" Elianna shouted, pulling me into a hug.

"Elianna, get off me," I hissed, suppressing the grin beneath my spite.

The poor girl backed away as though she had been burned. "Rose, I'm  
sor--"

"We WON!"

I told them what happened and soon enough, the whole office broke into smiles  
and stupid dances of joy. By the end of the day, the news had been spread  
around Torchwood and everyone was either shocked, happy or really, I mean  
really, annoyed… For ages we worked our buttocks off, all under Mum's nose  
and the prying eyes of the public. We all, well me especially, dedicated all  
our time onto working on the Dimension Cannon project and it helped a lot that  
it was funded by Torchwood. All the components we needed was no  
questions-asked handed over to us and there were no complications.

A couple of months later, it was finished and the Cannon was eventually  
accomplished and ready for the proper test drive…

Twenty of us altogether, from various Departments, were picked and trained to  
do the jumps between Universes. I was paired up with Mickey most of the time.  
Tosh'd dash about, crazily dancing from control panel to control panel,  
while Gareth, Saloni, Imelda and Andes obligingly hurried away at the  
computers according to instructions. After they'd finished tapping in the  
right codes, equations and whatnot they'd press the magic button and we'd  
be off. The Universes were picked out at random and we didn't have a choice  
where we were pulled to. During the journey it felt as if our bodies were  
being stretched and pulled, dizziness following close after and the same  
queasy feeling running through us.

But that was soon fixed by a modification of the Cannon and now, the  
Dimension Cannon wasn't a huge big black metal object, but a petite silver  
button strung over our necks that looked a lot like the previous Universe  
Hoppers. They didn't cause as much trouble with our bodies and were fairly  
easy to use. But I was used to the ongoing pain, hence the fortnightly…  
visits and such, so I wasn't that fussed, however it was different for the  
others. But soon enough, I was put on my own because others were unwilling to  
jump because of the painful side-effects of the trips. So Dad, after lots of  
rows and debates, let me jump on my own. It went from twenty jumpers to four:  
Jake, Aryl, Oasis and me were the only ones keen to cross Universes.

It took months and months until I found the right Universe and even then, I  
couldn't project properly. I met a woman with fiery red hair and a brilliant  
positive attitude, who I later discovered was the important, brilliant Donna  
Noble. One step closer to the Doctor, but one step closer to danger. The pain  
in my body clung to me, but improved greatly and I then knew that there was  
only one place where I'd be set free from this agony. The Doctor's  
Universe.

The research went on and so did the jumps. Every Universe was the same  
though, breaking down and being engulfed by the oncoming darkness. The stars  
were going out and it was getting worse by the second. The Daleks… They were  
why the Universe's walls were breaking down, and they were the reason I  
could go back home again. The darkness was coming, and the Doctor was needed.

The Earth, my home Earth, was stolen from its Solar System and stuffed into  
another. I found the Doctor at last and just as we were about to reunite, he  
got shot by my sworn enemies, the Daleks. I was afraid he'd change into  
another person, but he'd managed to keep that face with the hair and we  
reunited properly this time. I thought I'd get to stay with him this time -  
forever - and travel again, but I was wrong.

Then came the Daleks, Davros, the Doctor-Donna and the clone Doctor. Then  
came my final goodbye on Bad Wolf bay, once again. Mickey stayed on Earth this  
time and it seemed that he'd thought that I was staying too, but it turned  
out that his assumptions were wrong and even I didn't know his plans.

All that time, I hadn't noticed or realised why, why I'd gone through so  
much pain. It was because I couldn't stand this Universe and I knew it was  
the same with Mickey, the ghostly look in his dark-hazel eyes told it all and  
we both knew that we were allergic to this Parallel Universe. Mum was fine,  
because somehow producing a child with a parallel husband in this Universe  
cleared out all of her problems and left her perfect.

That was why I couldn't stay, no matter how much I wanted to be with my  
family, I couldn't. Mickey was let off and went with prevail and triumph,  
free from it all. But I wasn't. I tried to fend for myself, finding an  
excuse to bring myself back, but nothing worked. In my head, I made it clear  
that I couldn't tell the Doctor why I honestly needed to get back, because I  
didn't want to burden him and because… Because, he obviously didn't want  
me anymore. That was why he left me…

The Doctor left with Donna, just after the clone Doctor said he loved me and  
I kissed him. The real Doctor, the proper Doctor, left me on the Parallel  
Universe again with my beloved family and his clone to look after. It wasn't  
fair; I wanted him, not this clone. No, I needed him and I meant it…

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Just as I watched the TARDIS dematerialise for the very last time and waved  
goodbye to the Doctor, the other one took my hand and held it in his. But, you  
know what the strange thing was? I didn't get the same warm, loved,  
fuzzy-feeling from when I held the Doctor's hand. No, I got a strange  
awkward sensation as if I'd been touched by ice.

I flinched away in shock. "I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?" he asked me, a clear look of hurt implanted on his  
face. Just then, Mum intercepted and snapped the phone shut in irritation.

"Norway. He landed us in bleeding Norway, again." Mum tutted, striding  
forward. "Your father will be here soon, he's bringin' the zeppelin.  
Where he learned to drive, don't ask me, but we'd better try and find a  
hotel or summat for a while. He won't be here in ages!" Pensively, I  
stared at her and retched out of the blue, cupping my own mouth in surprise. I  
gagged again, and felt the revolting vomit rise in my throat, leaving a horrid  
burning feeling that stung my throat badly.

"Rose?"

My head suddenly reeled with unbearable pain and the cogs in my brain sped  
up, racing through thought after thought, making my vision blur and fuzz as  
the world spun around me at hundreds of miles an hour.

"Help…" I squeaked, choking and yanking on the Doctor's blue jacket.

"Oh my gosh! ROSE?! What the hell is happening to her, Doctor?" I heard  
Mum wail. "Rose, honey?!"

"Jackie, call an ambulance. Now!" the Doctor replied angrily, as I felt  
strong hands hold me up, but I stumbled away carelessly as the Universe turned  
on me. "Rose, where are you going? You need help, please."

I ignored him and gripped my chest, screaming as I staggered forward. My  
heart throbbed and my heart burned like the sun as the gap in the Universe  
closed itself for the last time and forever… I retched again and coughed  
stiffly into my hand, tearing my hand away in relief to reveal a sticky trail  
of hot, crimson blood.

"Rose, you need help! Jackie?!"

"Why now?!" I screamed.

Eyes rolling back into my head, my knees buckled under the weight and I  
couldn't stand the pain any longer. I wanted it to be over. Without warning,  
I willingly fell with a thump onto the soft sand, collapsing and smiling  
distantly as panic erupted around me. Slowly but surely, the world around me  
faded away as I embraced the empty coldness.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Rose? Rose?" a gentle voice called me as I felt generally big hands  
shake me and stir me from my kip. The voice grew less patient. "Rose!? Up  
you get now sleepy-head! You're just like your brother sometimes." Mum. I  
groaned and turned over, ignoring her completely as the light triggered one  
blimming heck of a headache. "Wake up love, we're going somewhere."

* * *

**A/N: - You know exactly what to do… REVIEW!!!! ****Fla****me, constructive criticise, praise, nicey-nicey review, assess, tell me any mistakes…. AND SO ON!!! THANK YOU,THANK YOU, THANK YOU FOR ALL THE WONDERFUL AMAZING BRILLOPADS MARVY REVIEWS YOU'VE GIVEN ME SO FAR!! I'll try to reply them all... Keep on reading!**

**Ah, I've just noticed that this ending is exactly the same as the last Rose POV chappie. Gonna change that… NOW! =D**

**Reviews are like chocolate; the more you give me the more hyper I get and the more hyper I get, the faster the ideas get to my head.. *hints* lol!!! =D =D**

**Spoiler for last night's Apprentice below!!!**

**HAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! The _rough, touch cream puff has been fired!! Aka: _****_Kimberley_****_ the American. _****I'd rather ****Lorraine**** or Phillip get fired though, because I liked her quite a bit… ;D**


	10. The Fear

**A/N****: - OK, just an insignificant teeny-weeny that I thought I'd put in for the sake of it. I've changed all of my **_**Chapter Titles **_**and changed them into appropriate song titles that I know. Got bored with all the **_**'Hmm, what should I call this chapter?'**_** fiasco! LOLz.**

**Un-Betaed. Will be soon. Thanks to sonicthecat7 for beta-ing my other chapters anyway! **

**So firstly, one-million-and-one cyber choccies/cookies to the people who correctly tell me the artist of the song title/chapter title!**

**Disclaimer: I DO (NOT) OWN DOCTOR WHO!!! :D**

**THANK YOU ALL CHUMETTES FOR THE FABULOUS GORGEY REVIEWS YOU'VE GIVEN ME!!!! CYBER-COOKIES AND CHOCOLATES TO ALL… =D**

**As always, read and review…**

**HAPPY READING!**

**I was going to add Donna in this story, but then it might trigger some alarms as a too much of a fix-it fic, so I've scrapped that idea. But, but, BUT, hear me out first: if I don't include her in this, then I will do a **_**sequel **_**solely dedicated to bringing the amazing wonderful Donna Noble back! Here is the catch: if you would like Donna to be part of this story, just tap me a review/PM. Love to know your opinions.**

**If anyone is wondering, I **_**borrowed**_**teeny-tiny aspect from Darren Shan's Demonata series concerning the **_**lights**_** part, to open windows into other Universes. If I did not, things would get complicated. Extra long chapter to make-up for the wait. **

**=D**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& **

"Gwen?" Jack asked tentatively, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you OK? What happened?"

"Oh gawd, my head! What the hell happened to me?" Gwen swung her legs around to let them dangle over the edge of the bed and she cupped her head in her hands, shaking away the throbbing. She rocked her head back and forth a couple of times, before looking up. "I'm parched, d'you have any water, Jack?"

Ianto happened to be in the right place, at the right hand, carrying the right thing and Jack eased the polystyrene cup of water from his hands and pushed it into Gwen's.

"Thanks," she muttered gratefully, swigging down the contents in four big gulps, as Captain Jack, the Doctor, Mickey and Ianto eyed her with concern. Her head felt like it was on fire and blurry reminisces of what had just happened flickered vaguely through her head. A sudden cold, unwelcoming, silver image replayed in her head, followed by a series of gruesome scenes, and the girl jolted back in surprise, manically checking her hands – for _blood_.

"The knife!" she yelped, eyes skimming the room frantically. "Where's the knife?"

"It's downstairs, on the table, where you guys left it." Mickey replied.

"Why, is there something we need to know?" Jack asked her, stepping forward.

"No, I just… It's… I keep seeing visions in my head and… Hell, do I hate this job… I can't even go one bleeding week without somethin happ'ning to me."

Jack chuckled, "Aw, Gwen, you're hurting my feelings! You'd better not be meaning that. Surely, it can't be that bad," he winked cheekily at her. "Especially since you're dealing with the sexiest boss alive, I mean, how is that a bad thing?"

"Shut up!" grinned Gwen weakly.

"Not now, Captain," the Doctor warned and turned his back on Jack, eyes fixated on Gwen, as he said gently. "What did you see, Gwen? What did the Knife show you?"

"I can't remember," she replied truthfully, trying to capture the dream as snippets of it whirred through her head. "It's all blurs, like a dream I can't remember."

"So you can't remember anything at all?" the Doctor pressed, but was responded with a humble shake of head. "Nothing at all? Not even the slightest chance of a reminisce?"

"No…"

"Right, never mind. Now, about you, are you feeling OK? Any weird symptoms, visions, energy drainage?" the Doctor asked nonchalantly, producing his Sonic again.

"'Cept for this blooming hell of a headache, then no, I'm fine," Gwen said and allowed the Doctor to _bleep_ her all over with his weird blue-torchlight gadget. She wouldn't even start to ask what it was. When he'd finally finished 'scanning' her, the Doctor ended with some geeky conclusion which translated as _'Gwen is alright.'_

"Ianto, can you fetch the scanner. We can't be too careful; the Sonic might've missed something in the scan," Jack ignored the wail of protest from the Doctor. "We need to check if there have been any bodily malfunctions or an unusual energy transfer that's affected her," Jack ordered to Ianto.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, there musta bin somethin', 'cos you were all twitchy an' stuff. I remember you kept muttering about that knife thing an' you said somethin' 'bout _Suzie_, swaying mountains and summat 'bout a big black hole 'that shone like the sun but was as dark as night'. I mean how does that work? You were like some sorta robot, jerkin' around and stuff – you were talkin' as if it was you facing everythin'… It was really weird."

"Mickey, I appreciate your assistance, but I don't think that's helping," the Doctor put in simply, shooting Mickey a warning glare as if to say: _I think its best you stay out of this for the moment, because it's not making Gwen feel any better by telling her that she went a bit… astray from the real world _Mickey scowled inwardly_._

In fact, the Doctor was wrong.

"Wait, I think Mickey's just jogged my memory again," Gwen said frowning, eyes widening as the memories played like a cartoon-strip in her ebony-black pupils. In the background, Mickey grinned and nodded smugly to the Doctor "I can remember everything; the swaying mountains, the _Vortex_, the twin-suns, the runaway Timelord, the Knife, the great _War_, Earth, Cardiff, the weevils, the Rift, Suzie and… _me_." Gwen laughed with disbelief. "Oh, you 'ave got to be kidding me!"

"What is it?"

"I think I must be going mad, 'cos I think I know who this _Chosen_ _One_ is."

"_Who_?"

"Jack, I am _so_ gonna kill you for this! Thing is, I think it's me...."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

_14:__30pm_

After they'd all tucked into a 'nutritious' lunch of cold chips and cheese sandwiches, they got back to work again.

Jack busied himself 'supervising' the Doctor and Gwen. Gwen had suddenly started to remember after Mickey had somehow done the trick and jogged her memory back. Ever since _that_ moment in time, the Doctor and Gwen were like houses on fire – the Doctor firing geekier and geekier technobabble by the minute, while Gwen chivalrously nodded and added small snippets of her 'when the Knife possessed her' knowledge, that made the biggest difference to the Doctor's wild presumptions. The Captain was _almost_ jealous at their newfound companionship!

The Doctor never treated him like that the first time he met him – well he was all Big Ears and moody with him first time round, because of _ahem_ an uh certain… con… Let's not go into that. Yet.

According to Gwen, the Knife's knowledge was permanently implanted in her head and she could remember _everything ­–_ most importantly, she thought she could remember how to cut windows into different Universe. When that new information was released, the Doctor went ecstatic and immediately jerked into technobabble-heaven mode and for just those shining moments, it looked as if…

"Everything's turning up Doctor!" the Time Lord exclaimed contentedly, a brief memory niggling his thoughts as he said it.

But as the afternoon wore onwards, things weren't going so well. Firstly, the Doctor had enthusiastically produced the Knife and checked some things over with Gwen, verifying repeatedly whether she was _ready _– for what, Captain Jack didn't know. After a whole load of insisting that she was going to be fine and would yell at the top of her lungs if something went wrong, they were finally ready. The Doctor somehow 'opened' Gwen's mind and unlocked some sort of _hidden_ conscience, that supposedly exposed creativity and acceptance, of some sort. The Doctor claimed that every Human had this conscience in hiding, which apparently caused some disadvantage and made Humans refuse to believe in alien life and existences beyond the Solar System, closing their minds to what the Doctor called the 'greater good'. Despite his previous statements, the Doctor suddenly 'happened to remember' about learning about the Knife, when he studied in Universal Preparatory Academy and did a lesson of _Powerful Inanimate Objects_

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about the knife's powers, Doc?" Jack had queried curiously.

"It's Doc_tor_," the Doctor replied, emphasising the latter. "I know, but as I said, I don't know its full properties and uses, but it was a basic fact to at least know the general infrastructure of the knife – enabling me to use the simple knowledge I already know to figure out how the knife works," He jabbed a finger to his head. "It's all in here. I just needed the nudge to get the ball rolling again Jack and as much as I hate to admit it, Ianto's coffee seemed to do the trick. After that time on _Bloomex Red Delta Seven_, I'd never have thought I'd enjoy a cup o' coffee again… Remind me to thank Ianto when I see him later."

Five rambles and one Captain Jack's deep concern later, Gwen was made to hold the knife again and asked to shut her eyes.

"Doctor, are you sure this is safe?"

"Captain, if you'd think I'd really do anything to endanger the safety of a human being, then I ask you now, speak out" His voice was hard and serious, showing that he meant business. Jack didn't respond and the Doctor uttered a small: "Good."

"Gwen, I want you to imagine you're alone," the Doctor ordered quietly, fingers pressed to Gwen's temples as her eyes crashed shut. "I want you to pretend you're not in this room and I want you to go to the place you feel the most comfortable for you, the place where you feel relaxed…"

This was all new to her, but Gwen knew from the looks on their faces that this Rose, the same pretty blonde she'd spoke to over the web-cam she presumed, was someone important to Jack, Mickey and the Doctor. So, she decided to cooperate with them and try her best to help them, seeing as she withheld some special power, that evens he didn't know. It would be both good for her and for them – even though she was still very nervous about all of this and what was happening to her.

It scared her in a way, but she needed to find out why it was _her_ and not anybody else – it could've been Mickey, Jack, Ianto, the Doctor even or somebody that more special than her in the world, but the knife, it chose her. Gwen was nothing special, yeah, she went around busting aliens and saving the world occasionally, but she was nothing extraordinary. Not like Jack, who couldn't die, not like Ianto who battled a Pterodactyl, Weevils and escaped the battle at Canary Wharf alive, not Mickey who once jumped to and lived in a different Universe and she certainly wasn't someone extraordinary called the Doctor, that saved the world in a blue box and had two hearts, because he was an alien. She wasn't really anyone important, so why her?

Gwen's inhaled a deep breath and calmly magicked herself to the one place, where she felt loved, comfortable and at peace – and it certainly wasn't Torchwood. It was at home, in her flat that she shared the best moments of her life. With Rhys.

"Gwen, are you ready?" she heard the gentle voice of the Doctor call. She nodded attentively and felt the pressure ion her temples release. "Now I want you to raise the Knife up at chest-height." Gwen obeyed willingly. "Gwen, do you remember before, when the Knife went into your head?" Another nod. "Great, do you know how that happened?" Gwen analysed the situation and dug deep into her head, before nodding unsurely and articulating a timid 'I think so.'

Gwen squeezed her eyes together tighter and focused on the cool metal pressed into her hands, waiting for the familiar sensation. And then it started. The colours whirled around in her head and Gwen's fingers prickled, as the tingling fuzzed at the tip of her fingertips and crept its way up Gwen's way – spreading throughout her body and finally swimming around in the girl's head.

"Doctor, it's starting…"

"Gwen, stay with me, now. Are you still in your comfort zone?"

"Yes, but the picture's fading, like a ruined water colour painting. I'm drifting away again…" she muttered, breaths growing ragged as her heart started thumping loudly. She swore loudly, as the images of Suzie's wrath splattered blood across her view and visions flooded through the barrier, condemning her to another bout of trampling through the past. "Doctor, I don't want to go through this again! HELP ME!"

"Gwen, Gwen, calm down. The Knife, it's trying to control you again, but you can overcome it. Just calm down and maintain your focus. Fight it," The Doctor said urgently, trying to suppress the adrenaline. "Where did you choose to be alone, Gwen? I can't help you unless you answer me. Gwen?"

The Welsh woman willed her eyes to stay shut and reluctantly tried to mollify the tension, forcing herself not to give into the flashing images.

"At home… In my flat," Gwen whispered, and then she raised her timbre a notch. "_Help me!_ Jack, tell him_…"_

"Doctor, do something!"

"I'm trying, Captain," the Doctor exclaimed, before turning around to face Gwen again. "Gwen, your home, a lovely place, I'm sure. Now, don't let it get away from you. Imagine it Gwen, push all those other thoughts outta your head and concentrate on your flat, did you say it was?"

"Yeah…"

"I want you to describe your flat to me, Gwen. You can do it, ignore everything else and tell me everything; what colour your curtains are, where your telly is, anything Gwen. Pay attention to nothing, other than your home…"

Anxiously, Jack stood offset watching from above and Gwen speedily uttered words to the Doctor, who responded by asking even further questions. Exactly fifteen minutes and twenty-six seconds later, not that he was counting, the Torchwood officer appeared to have calmed down and wasn't in hysteria anymore. It looked like the Doctor's therapy worked. Bu then came the intriguing part where the Doctor instructed Gwen to picture _lights_ in her mind Jack, himself, was clueless and watched in fascination as Gwen outstretched both arms and used the knife, to sort of piece-together something that only Gwen could see in her head.

_17:30pm_

A _lot_ of patience was needed for this and Captain Jack was not the patient man, intolerantly meandered off, after three completely boring hour of watching Gwen hands-out-to- connect-pieces-of-_light_-that-only-Gwen-could-see. The Doctor insisted that things were progressing, but Jack suspected things weren't exactly going to plan.

"Right, Doc. I'm off; if you need me, I'll be in my office," Jack announced, yelling to apparently nobody as he walked off, as nobody acknowledged his presence. "There's something dodgy going on concerning the _Pringles _Manufacturer. If you need me, I'll be in my office, talking to the charming _Charles Luton_ – if that's his real name."

He sighed to himself bluntly and trudged back to his office, muttering where he sat down, picked up the phone and stabbed in the numbers to contact Mr Charles Luton. Lips sinking into a small frown, Jack scanned the area and found no sign of Ianto, even though Jack had given direct orders to contact anybody he knew, that was related to UNIT or Martha's whereabouts. Strange. Jack shrugged and went for the option that Ianto was off guarding the Tourism Office again.

"_This is the Pringles Manufacturing __Company. Good morning, Maria King, personal advisor to Mr Luton speaking. How may I help you?"_

"Well, hello Maria. Just a friend of Mr Luton calling… How are you darling?"

"_I'm fine thank you sir, now please would you state the reason for your--"_

"WHAT THE HELL?" interrupted Mickey loudl_y_.

Jack slammed the phone down quickly and rushed out, grimacing at the cause of the noise.

An arch of blinding white light enveloped the Torchwood Hub, resonating a low-pitched howling type noise that reverberated around Torchwood. It was coming from Gwen and the Doctor.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Captain Jack shouted boldly over the noise, just able to catch a glimpse of Gwen surrounded serenely by the noisy blinding light. The Doctor wasn't far behind and Jack caught his eye.

"DOCTOR, what's happening?"

"SHE'S OPENING A WINDOW!" was the reply.

This was going to be hell. The Doctor somehow managed to control Gwen's 'power' and lessened the large affect, allowing time for Mickey to shriek (like a little girl) and announce that the Rift was sprouting readings that were off the scale.

Gwen seemed oblivious to all of this and the Doctor panicked – a distant memory of a young servant girl by the name of Gwyneth under an arch eating away at his conscience. She couldn't be.

_Please no, please no, please no…_

The Doctor edged forwards and rested two fingers to her neck, smiling relief to find that her pulse was as strong as ever. Following the alarmed shrieks from all three other co-workers, the Doctor proceeded to placing two fingers at each of her temples and crossing the threshold into her mind. He saw the unspeakable power that the Knife had given this girl and quietly wondered if Cross-dimensional Spatial Multiplicity and Gwyneth's life had something to do with it. He swiftly shrugged the thought away and spoke to her using low-level connected telepathy. The Doctor told Gwen to release the power and let go, adding a mental note that they needed some more practice, or otherwise the Earth might just feel the consequences of the Knife's power.

Gwen obeyed and the Doctor relieved his grasp, as he acknowledged the energy flow leave her and depart her human body. The Doctor sighed a little, realising that this mission would take a while… A long while…

_1__9:45pm_

Fatigued, Jack leaned tiredly on his desk, yawning. It had been a very long day, it was a tiresome day and all four Torchwood officers – and the Doctor, were exhausted. They'd spent the day, working their heads off. Firstly, the day had started with the Doctor paying an unexpected visit to them which then turned into apprehension, as Mickey (eventually) decided to speak out and explain one of his _real_ reasons as to why he was here. This news was soon joined by the fact that good-old Donna had been, in a Time Lord fashion, _retconned _of all of her memories with the Doctor; because of the terrible fate, that Donna would die if that didn't happen.

If that wasn't bad enough they learned that Rose was about to die, due to the mistake of not-naming-no-names one idiotic Doctor and one silent Mickey, and was united by the bemusing truth that Gwen Cooper was allegedly the _Chosen One_ and possessed a special connection with Ianto's so-amusingly dubbed 'Life Knife'. Thinking of Ianto, he hadn't spoken to the Welsh lad in a while, and he had yet to fix that in the night to come… 

_Anyway_, Mickey had sat at the computer for five hours straight, furiously hacking into protected sites and finding out as much as he could. In the meanwhile, during the whole afternoon, Ianto had been sent to contact anyone in relation with UNIT that knew about Martha's whereabouts and find out what was going on, because Martha's well-being was also an important priority as well as saving Rose from her crisis.

A series of crazy manic events followed, as Gwen felt the true power of the Knife but as she was unable to control it, was forced to let go, for the sake of the human race's safety. The Doctor turned out to be quite right after all, things were progressing after all, but a lot of hard work had to be done. But the most important issue that they _all _(the Doctor especially) necessitated to remember that Gwen was doing this out of her own will and they couldn't push her too far, into anything she wasn't comfortable with or was dangerous. The blinding-light fiasco had already sent Gwen into a two-hour bout of extreme tiredness and left her limbs quite frail.

"Poor girl," Jack chuckled and thought to himself. "Can't even go a day without something happening…"

Jack had the feeling that he would need to remind the Doctor of Gwen's safety, because knowing the Doctor as well as he did, he'd have some problems with that…

Then another consideration entered his mind. Now, as he sat in his cosy office, the saddening but plausible fear that perhaps they _wouldn't be in time_ to save the lovely blonde-haired Rose Tyler nudged his conscience and caught him unawares. Because Time wasn't on their side this time.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Exactly six days had passed and things were moving along… slowly, to say the most. The Doctor had stayed with them for the last few days – only retreating back to the TARDIS every night when everybody went home, to do some more tinkering and do whatever a Time Lord did, which naturally _didn't_ involve sleep.

The Doctor sighed, as he removed himself from underneath the grating and leaned back against the console chair – a bizarre toaster-like object, jammed with geeky bits and bobs, held in his right hand Six days – six days had passed since he first found out the news and things weren't going as he thought they'd be.

Yeah, Gwen had improved her control over the Knife and managed to open the smallest but most brilliant, fantastic and amazing of Time windows to modern day Tokyo, but that was just the one time… All Gwen had managed to do since then was create massive explosions of white light and cause another easy-to-fix crack to tip some more weevils into the system. Not saying that Gwen wasn't doing well or to take the blame, of course – she was doing _brilliantly _for a human in the 21st century and seemed to be getting the hang of things, improving each time they tried. She had a bubbly positive attitude which made things all the while easier, but the nine-hundred year old Time Lord still felt guilty for putting the Welsh woman through all this. All because he wanted to save the woman, he lo… _trusted _and saved him from his misery. Why his heart thudded every time he was with him and why he fell for a normal human female, out of his nine-hundred years of living, he didn't know. But he all knew was that this once, just this once, he wanted to be this little bit _selfish_ and save a life, that he thought didn't deserve to be snuffed out so easily. A life that was in terrible danger because of him.

Yet, the Doctor wished that _he_ had the power to do this because, he didn't want to sound arrogant, but he'd be able to get things done far quicker and he'd have probably cracked it by now, with or without Torchwood's help. But there was the catch – he didn't have the power.

As every minute ticked by, he worried more and more about Rose. He couldn't even begin to name the countless conclusions his head jumped to every waking second of the day. He just hoped she wasn't dead by now… If she was…

Throwing the device onto the TARDIS console, the Doctor leapt out of the TARDIS and into the purple darkness and serenity of the evening, making his way to the Perception Filtered paving stone and into the mysterious depths of Torchwood Three.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*

"Yep, that's two large pizzas," Ianto said, portable phone pressed to his ear. "Mmhmm. Ye… No, actually. Could you make that two large pizzas and a tub of coleslaw? My boss keeps insisting that I eat more vegetables. Thanks, OK, bye then."

"What d'you get?" Mickey asked, stretching on his seat.

"The usual. A Meat feast… and I wasn't sure so I got a four cheese, just to be on the safe side," Ianto replied.

Mickey gave him a confused look and Gwen joined in the conversation. "Of what?"

"Time Lords could be vegetarians."

"Right…" Gwen replied, containing a laugh.

"You 'ave got to be joking!" laughed Mickey heartily. "The Doctor, a vegetarian? You're 'aving a laugh, Ianto. He once stuffed three helpings of chops, when we went to this flying-restaurant place! You shoulda seen the look on Rose's face when…" he trailed off, as soon as he'd realised whom he'd just mentioned. The Hub suddenly produced a deathly silence, as they all exchanged shy looks and looked thoughtlessly at random objects in the room.

"Mickey-boy!" the Doctor yelled joyously, as he bounded down the stairs with enthusiasm. The recognisable heavy thumps of Jack's boots followed close behind.

The Hub buzzed with life again, as they all suddenly started shuffling about precariously, muttering the inaudible under their breaths.

"Yeah, wha' is it boss?" Mickey replied, automatically stabbing away at the keyboard

Jack supplied Mickey with an equation-filled sheet of A4 paper, "I just received it on my fax machine. It's co-ordinates to a television signal, but I'm not sure what. Could you track it down somehow?"

"Sure, just give me a minute," Mickey said, obtaining the paper and skimming through it. "Easy."

Dozens of keyboard jabs later, a blank black screen popped up on the screen and with a couple more adjustments, a colourful high-definition picture appeared.

"But this is just the BBC news. You sure these are the right co-ordinates, Jack?" Mickey enquired, brow furrowing as the remaining two Torchwood members crowded around the computer screen.

"Yeah, this is exactly what I got. Maybe there's some sort of code hidden in it?" Jack suggested.

"Oh, I'm sure alright." The Doctor muttered through gritted teeth, as he stared intently at the computer screen. "Look."

They all gasped as they saw the clip on the screen. It was of a pitch-black sky, surrounded by millions of twinkling stars with the pallid light of the sun lighting up the beautiful blue and green atmosphere of the earth underneath. However, as they examined the clip, a further ray of purple light zipped across the sky and an ugly ebony black and gold entered the vista. The remaining parts of the Dalek Crucible.

Precisely three seconds later, the ray of purple light enlarged and exploded up to the screen. The entire image quaked and quivered, as the remains of the Crucible exploded in a large BANG, sending chunks of metal and debris flying into the satellite video. The image faded to black…

And then rolled down more information at the bottom of the screen and the camera zapped back to the BBC studio, to the current news reporter who then introduced the interview of Sir Alan Akimbo – the UNIT chief advisor, in a conference room with lots of photographers and flashing lights.

"_I represent the entire UNIT base today and I am here to apologise to you for the unexpected outcome of our mission. We had great expectations and only wanted the best for the human race, by exploring the alien craftsmanship that remained hovering over our beloved planet. _

"_Nevertheless, unfortunately, to our great dismay and sorrow, we lost twenty-eight faithful soldiers today and I am here to tell you that they were brilliant, strong fighters that brought pride to the British nation. We shall bow our heads in respect and pride for these courageous soldiers that went up to the skies bravely, hoping to bring something back from their explorations but didn't come back, as a result of an unexpected and shocking explosion, that traumatised us all on this tragic day…_

" _However, I tell you now, fellow people of the Earth, these soldiers __chose__ to do this mission themselves and no pressure was put on them, so UNIT takes no responsibility. However, as UNIT knows the pain of death, forms of compensation shall be paid to the members of those families. We are truly sorry and now we pay respect to the deceased soldiers: Cho Kang Wong, Tiffany Blake, Harry Outmen, Jane Goodman, Omar Lattuca, Martha Jones, Peter…"_

At this point, nobody seemed to notice the rest of the names being read out, because they all looked at each with pain, sorrow and shock in their eyes. Martha Jones was dead…

All was sombrely silent, as nobody really knew what to say. Mickey stared up at the rest of them, aghast at the news, even though he hadn't really known Martha, but even he knew that this woman didn't deserve this sudden death. Ianto bowed his head down in respect, assimilatingthe new information and remembering Martha Jones, who had skilfully worked at Torchwood before. Gwen had admired Martha, because she coped with all the events so well and she seemed such a great person, that she was shocked out of her skins and a sudden stabbing of grief struck her. Jack fisted his fingers together in a tight ball and gulped, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them to reveal outraged and sorrowful tears that swiftly vanished with a blink of the eyes... The Doctor's soft chocolate brown eyes had turned a steely cold black, to represent the absolute anger, grief and surprise that was rushing through his head right this moment.

So many innocent people dead, including the one woman who had helped save the world. Another brave fighterdown, just how many more lives needed to be taken until Death was happy?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Gwen said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"They wrecked twenty-eight lives, just for the sake of it. I bet they didn't stop to think about their soldiers' welfare. Couldn't care less, seeing as how that spokesperson reacted to the situation," Jack whispered darkly, eyes slowly tracing the man on the television screen. "He didn't feel sorry for those men and women; he just wanted to save his own skin."

"That speech was done out of fear, not grief," The Doctor concluded forbiddingly, the darkness and anger in his eyes as prominent as ever. The Time Lord fought the urge to break down and carried on, "Twenty-eight _soldiers_, as UNIT called them, risked their lives and left their families, just to fulfil some stupid mission to salvage parts of an alien ship – which they don't even know about. UNIT risked their reputation, but who paid the price? Martha Jones and all those other twenty-seven soldiers, who died because of it. _This_ is what the Universe is turning to, Jack. _The bountiful human race_…"

They all stared at each other in mournful silence.

"Your pizza!" called a bold female voice that originated from the Hub's main entrance. "Hello, anybody in?"

"Just leave it on the table," Ianto said bluntly, completely not recognising the obvious fact that somebody had just suddenly got through all the security locks and got into the Hub.

"Err, money?" the voice cooed again happily, this time sounding… teasing and chatty, even.

Without looking back, Jack handed a wad of cash to Ianto and said, "Ianto will pay you the money and then you can just go."

Money gripped tightly in his hands, Ianto walked onwards, staring and the floor but when he looked up at the delivery girl…

"Jack…" he called loudly, eyes widening in shock.

"Hold on, I need to get in touch with UNIT base so…"

"Jack, you won't believe whose---" Ianto started off.

A sudden thought pelted the Captain full in the head and he spun round with a cold steely glare.

"Hang on, how did you get through the security locks? There are over twenty-five million different combinations to all five security locks, so how did you get in here?" Jack shouted at the currently anonymous pizza delivery girl. He thundered towards her, mind running over the theory that they'd just had a break in by perhaps an alien, but when he reached the entrance to the Hub, he looked up with wide stunned eyes.

"Hello, Jack!" the pizza-delivery girl exclaimed happily.

Jack's jaw dropped wide open and he enveloped the newcomer in a huge bear-hug,.

"Martha Jones, you're supposed to be dead." Jack muttered joyously, squeezing the woman even tighter.

_To Be Continued…_

**A/N:- Hope you liked it! Please review! All flames, constructive criticism, advice, praise and everything-you-can-think-of WELCOMED happily!! =D =D =D =D**


	11. Just Dance?

**A/N: - YIPEE, I've finally got together ideas and pieced this chapter together – after about two looooong weeks! I just thought adding this chapter would be a nice sort-of-but-isn't filler chapter before something I've been planning for ages now to bring the **_**oomph **_**back into this story. What is it? You'll have to wait and see!!! Mwahahahahahahaha!**

**Thanks to my latest reviewers: **_**Kitty Bridgeta and Taylor Harkness **_**for their reviews to Chapter 10, but THANK YOU ALL reviewers anyways. **

_**A herd, a herd o' piggies,**_

_**A pocket full of Swine Flu,**_

_**Atishoo! Atishoo! The virus dooms us all!**_

**^^^ Just a little random song I'm going to introduce to my friends, so that we can annoy all the teachers! Just as a side note, I'm not in the least bit bothered about Swine Flu, even though it's only 4 miles away in the city! Ah well, it'll all blow over soon!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own **_**THIS**_** show – unfortunately. **

**Read on, fellow chums and chumettes!**

**=D =D =D =D =D **

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Rubbing my eyes, I reluctantly peeled them open and wondered what 'miracle' had caused this visit.

"Who burned the garage down?"

"Aunt Kath."

I jerked up in bed, eyes snapping open. "You what?"

"Aunt Kath," she repeated calmly. "My so-called 'sister' in this Universe. Don't ask me who she is, I don't even know I had a sister called 'Kath', back in the other Universe – let alone this one. Pete says I'll have to pretend to remember her- apparently, _they_ didn't see this Kath person very often anyways. She wanted to meet this 'secret' niece we've been hiding for twenny odd years. Come on, get dressed – we've been invited to dinner 'round her place. The kitchen's in ruins anyway. The car's coming in twenty minutes."

Fiddling with an earring that looked suspiciously like real diamonds, mum stood up and casually strolled out the door. I observed her choice of style for tonight… She had her eyes curled up into a elaborate tight bun on the top of her head and was wearing this pretty waist-tight sparkling black dress that came to a stop at her knees accompanied black fishnet tights, a matching set of shiny earrings and a necklace and was finished off by a pair of impossibly high-heeled shoes and some make-up.

Wow… She was just so _different. _Believe it or not, I'd never actually seen her so… _dressed up_ before, well the only time being when it was my parallel mum, and even in the three to four odd years she'd been here, mum had promptly stuck to her lovely – in my opinion, dress style of jeans, a top and an odd pair of trainers or something. This just told me how much I'd not noticed and took to care about how much this Earth and her new lifestyle had changed my mum. I wasn't sure whether I liked it or not, 'cos the idea of a Jackie Tyler walked around talking _posh _and acting all classy really didn't--

"Damn these blooming 'eels," mum spouted irritably and I heard a clatter of leather against wood, followed by another fractious murmur. "Gimme me trainers any day."

Nah, she was still my good old mum.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Smoothing my hair back into place, I consequently rid all the creases of my jeans and dug out a suitable denim jacket – pulling it over my bare skin, careful to obscure the watch that was irritatingly blinking yellow. I honestly didn't understand the device; there it was happily blinking away when I was perfectly _fine_, hence the word. Yeah maybe the watch-thing happened to say that I had a _slightly _abnormal blood pressure of 159 and a heart rate of 101 beats per minute, but all in all, there wasn't a headache or symptom or Slitheen that was in my way – and that's me with my hand over heart. Honest.

Finishing with a thin layer of primrose lipstick, a small sweep of mascara and a small dab of _rouge _on my cheeks – deciding that my face was _pale enough_ without a layer of foundation, I gave myself a final once over in the mirror and headed out the room. I wasn't really in the mood for properly 'tarting' myself up, but I was extremely sure that a pair of (slightly ripped) jeans and a fairly clean jacket was appropriate enough for this 'Aunt Kath' of mine – screw her, if she didn't like my appearance. However, a certain mother of mine thought different…

"Where'd you think you're goin' dressed like that?" mum exclaimed, looking me up and down, as she struggled with brush and gel to comb Tony's wildfire of hair.

That was the type of phrase used when mothers scolded their children for dressing up like a prostitute or _Barbie_ – which was the exact _opposite _of me.

"Dressed like what?" I tried innocently.

"Oh, you know very well what I mean, dressed like a right ol' scruff bag – I'm havin' enough trouble as it is with _your_ little brother here, so don't you start. I never had this trouble, brushing your hair, Rose!" mum cried out in frustration, wrestling to control of a squirming Tony.

I laughed, "That's 'cos I'm a _girl_ mum."

"Yeah, she's a girl, mum!" Tony copied innocuously, sticking out his tongue. "I'm a boy and boys don't need hair brushed!"

With a slyly clever twirl, Tony wriggled out of mum's feeble grasp and swiftly sprinted away – escaping into the safety of the kitchen.

"Get back 'ere, Tony Tyler! TONY!" she yelled helplessly after him, before sighing and rolling her eyes. "Rose, you don't know what chaos you've just unleashed inside of that 'ead of his!" She flopped against the wall, and turned her attention back to _me_, just when I had my back turned and was half way up to--. "Now, don't you dare think of running off!"

_Damn it! _

"I was just…"

"Don't even start."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Muttering dismally, I clip-clopped over the gravel and successfully nudged myself into the large, warm depths of dad's car, semiconsciously pulling down the hem of the black and white tartan dress I'd been forced in to. Mum had forced me into a knee length dress, chucked a pair of expensive shoes at me, strung a necklace of borrowed pearls around my neck and lent me a pair of large, gold hoop-earrings to put on – reluctantly reawakening memories of my old pair of hoops that I'd worn back when I'd been… _travelling the Universe in a blue box_.

"Where is 'e then?" I bellowed nonchalantly over the noise of Tony's err… _exotic _version of _'Baa, Baa Black Sheep'_.

"Who?" mum called back.

"The Do…" I stopped, mid sentence. "_John._"

Mum gibbered something about him doing extra work at Torchwood or something, so I left it at that, passing the journey in silence – well, when I say silence, I mean apart from the high-pitched attempts of various Nursery Rhymes (familiar and parallel) from Tony, mum's nattering over the phone to dad, _and_ Kingsley's radio, then everything was completely silent. Yeah right.

_Hang on_, I thought to myself, as the car elegantly swerved around a sharp bend and sped up the road, sending us all crashing into each other. _I know where this is…_

"This is the way to Torchwood."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

So it turned out that we certainly were _not _heading to Aunt Kath's house, who did actually exist but was in Brazil at that very moment, but to Torchwood tower instead. It was all a lie to coax me into following them. Why? I don't know, because they wouldn't tell me. Maybe they sent me there for some more check-ups or something, or maybe they wanted me to start work right away!

That still didn't explain why mum was all dressed up, mouth firmly zipped shut to answer any of my questions and that definitely didn't explain why Tony was tagging along to. All of the above reasons would give him a chance to destroy things and I was almost 110% positive that mum wasn't too keen on that idea.

Mum wandered off, as soon as we got to the top floor, where my office was and suddenly claimed that she was taking Tony to the loo – which I was suspected was yet another lie. There I was, just stood there in the dark. I waited. And waited. And waited. They never came back. I started to get worried then, that something bad had happened to them. I retraced their footsteps and found myself diverted away from the toilets, silently skulking towards the source of dim candle light sourcing from the central office.

I heard a few scuffles and squeaks, triggering my heart to start beating faster. We had some uninvited guests.

"Is there anybody in 'ere?" I called out, suppressing the fear in my voice and trying to sound authorities. "Mum, Tony – is that you?" No reply, if it were them – they would've replied by now. "Hello? Whoever you are, I'm armed!" A lie. "Come out – I won't 'urt you, I just wanna know who's here."

Wishing I honestly had some something hard to use as a weapon, or a weapon itself, to defend myself, I crept to the edge of the room and reached for the switch, flicking the light on.

"_SURPRISE!" _

Dozens of familiar grinning faces emerged in front of me, as I readjusted myself to the sudden blast of light. My eyes caught the huge banner that hung high above me: _WELCOME BACK ROSE!. _Everything clicked into place, as I stared around at the elaborately decorated room, and people for that matter, in front of me. This was why mum'd acted so secretive and strange ever since I'd came back – I'd totally missed all the clues and subtle hints, that'd been going on all day. They'd been arranging a welcome-back party for me. Oh heck – I'd told them countless times that I didn't need this fuss! I couldn't squirm out of this one.

Everyone was there: mum, dad, Tony, Jake, Rheann, Aryl, Fayosi, Greg, Gareth, Imelda, Matt, Tosh, the irritatingly annoying and flirty Owen Harper and many more recognisable faces including _John_.

He leapt out at me, a large green bottle of champagne and a wine glass clamped in his hands.

"Champagne for the lady?" he tried cheekily.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

I spent the first hour or two, cornering _the family _and having a good old moan about how much I didn't want a welcome-back party that would attract so much attention, because attention was the last thing I wanted right now. I just wanted to make a discrete as possible entrance and slip into the scenes, blending in with work again and acting as if nothing had happened. That was the exact opposite of what I got. After endless conversations and moans, I eventually realised it wouldn't do any good and succumbed to the unwanted attention, presents, music, dancing, fancy food and the strictly adult-only beverages available.

During my time in hospital, I reflect on how it wasn't fair to think of him as just a spare part and he deserved the respect, so I'd given up _the other Doctor, _it was far too long anyway and settled for John instead. It suited him. I suppose. I think.

"Care to dance, Miss Tyler?" Johnasked, dressed in a black and white tux that gave a striking resemblance to the one the Doctor had wore, when we'd battled against the cybermen. He gestured the slow playing music in the background and offered his arm.

I paused.

Oh, what the heck, a party was still a party! (Even if it was uncalled for.)

"I'd _love _to." I replied with a small smile.

W e made our way to the dance floor, where couples like: Owen and Tosh, mum and dad, and just close friends like: Imelda and Fayosi (laughing their heads off, why I do not know but shall have to find out), Rheann and Chris (hmm, I could see a relationship coming along there.), (John and me…) had already been lured by the lulling slow sound of music and were dreamily dancing away.

"You're really bad at this!" I laughed jovially, as John struggled to find the correct places to place his hands and feet.

He shook his head sheepishly and I swore I could see a blush forming, under his mop of unkempt brown hair. Sighing, I rested one of his arms on my waist and another on my shoulder, guiding his feet to the music until we had a steady rhythm to it.

"Not that hard is it." I muttered with a grin, looking up at him seeing that he'd finally got the hang of it.

"I could get used to this!"

The music slowed even further and I casually rested my head on his shoulder. He started twitching a little and seemed a bit uneasy, so I loosened my grip on him. _The Doctor _smelt of… time and the TARDIS and _adrenaline_, but this human Doctor smelt like mortality, sweat, and cologne. Two wonderful people that looked the same and shared the exact same memories, but were entirely different altogether…

I s'pose it was kinda strange though, dancing with the one woman he'd probably once thought he could have the human _happily ever after_ with. He only had one life, one chance to live his life and I'd messed up half of it by rejected him. Least he had that Joan to accompany him now and she was a good woman, minus the fact that she irritated me a lot. I suddenly remembered something.

I snapped my head back and looked up at him, "I only just remembered – Joan. Nurse Redfern. She wanted to speak you, ' said that you were meant to call 'er or somethin', I'm not sure." I nudged him and added a cheeky grin – tongue poking out slightly. "Somethin' _special _going on between you two that I should know?"

He blinked rapidly and stared at me.

"About that… I… Um… It's not what you think… We just…" he stammered, trying to let go of me.

I stopped him and pulled him back, "The way you're acting, you would've thought I've just accused you of murdering the Queen… No, the _President_ of England! Listen to me, it's fine. I don't care what's goin' on between you and Joan, 'cos it's none of my business anymore and it's _your_ life not mine."

He stared at me, bemused.

"Really?"

"Look... _John_, you gave me a chance to start afresh with me, along time ago and what did I do? I turned you away, that's what… You've only got one life and I'm not stoppin' you from living it – being stuck with me instead. I mean it," I stated clearly, staring straight into his glossy brown orbs and continuing to sway along with the music. "How long did ya think you could keep it a secret, eh? I shoulda confronted you long ago…"

"You've known!?"

"You have got to be joking! I felt like puking with all the lovey-dovey business being put into practice when the pair of you were around."

I caught his serious, shocked and blushing, yes you heard me right, expression.

"We didn't—!"

I grinned. "I've known it for ages – what with you two sneakin' off every now and again, for lil private chats in the corridors and all those looks you gave each other!"

"You really don't mind?"

"I'm honest," I added quietly. "Just 'cos I can't get over my life and won't move on from Bad Wolf Bay, doesn't mean that your life's," I poked him square in the chest. "over too."

"Not to forget, I'm going to die anyway." I _didn't_ say.

He yanked me into an unexpected but greatly appreciated hug that sent a feeling of warmth tingling all the way down on my body.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The night flew by before I knew it and it was 1am, when everyone finally said their goodbyes and departed back to their homes to catch a couple of winks till the next morning.

I offered to stay and help clean up, but dad shook me away and he, John, Jake, Imelda and some of the others that decided to hang around stayed to clear up the mess we'd made. I thanked them all and gave them huge warm hugs to show my appreciation, before following mum and Tony back home in the car.

As I pulled the covers over my flannel pyjamas, I reflected on all the actions I'd performed that day and all the things I'd said, extremely sure and satisfied I'd made the right choices. However, no matter what everyone else claimed, and as cheesy and soppy as this sounds: I honestly couldn't push the dreadful feeling away that my time was growing short and I needed to make the most of my last days. I needed to do something before I wasted them and spent my entire last days of my life in Parallel Universe mourning over a wonderful, brilliant Time Lord I could never see again.

As the Doctor had said himself, so many years ago – _something's coming _and it was coming for me.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**A/N:- **

**Something I ****MUST**** try out on our flirty, hip-jutting-out English teacher:**

_**Student: Miss, would you tell me off and give me a detention for something I didn't do?**_

_**Teacher: No, of course not. **_

_**Student: Good, 'cos I haven't done my homework!**_

**HEEHAW! **_**Tres tres amusante**_**...**** - **_**Ahhh, ma professor Français**_** would be proud! **

**Thanks for reading! =D**

**I **_**r**_**eally ****wouldn't**** mind a couple of reviews, you know… ;)**


	12. Somewhere I Belong

**A/N: - Krap. I have just made the biggest mistake known to humanity (well to the Elf Society and Fanfiction at least). I forgot to mention in Chapter ****Ten that "Martha's" appearance is set a couple of days later after they find out about the Life Knife. Anyway, that's now been fixed and you can have a read of the changes in that chapter if you want, but as long as you know that EVERYTHING isn't happening on the same day.**

**WOO!! It's the half-term break, fro me at least! We got an extra day off cuz of the beloved INSET day! (Everyone else I know, that goes to a diffo school, still has school today! Even my lil bro…) Thank the amazing peep who made this WONDERFUL day up. Sooo bored, right now and a review would really brighten up my day. **

**Magic shoes for all! *lobs shoes into the air* Oh come on people, a shoe can't hurt **_**that**_** much, can it? Especially if it's a MAGIC one… Stop ye whining! LOLz**

**HAPPY READING!**

**Btw, this is sort of like a filler chapter, 'cos I really wanted to get stuck in on the next one.**

**=D =D =D =D =D**

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"What's this for? You're acting as though I've just escaped my death bed – not come back from a one-day mission!" Martha laughed, as she withdrew from Jack's bone crushing clutches, with a clearly stumped expression.

Ignoring the mouth-watering aroma that wafted its way up to her nose, Martha carefully placed the pizza boxes onto the side and studied Captain Jack's sullen mood.

Jack frowned and felt his eyebrows furrow, "You really don't know?"

"Is there something I _should_ know?"

But, as the Captain opened his mouth to speak, he'd been beaten to it by a stampede of cheers and hugs, who all flocked toward Martha and immediately grabbed her into the celebrations – who was currently being bombarded by questions.

Releasing herself from the muffled chattering and friendly embraces, smiling at the pokerfaced Time Lord, Martha strode over to the Doctor and pulled him into hug – which he didn't reciprocate with.

"You're not Martha Jones," The Doctor stated darkly, shrugging away.

"'Scuse me?" the young woman replied, slightly hurt but most of all – confused. She'd only gone off on barely a two-day mission, (that she didn't even complete) and they were all acting as if something had happened to her. Something terrible. Nevertheless, there she was, fine and dandy, so what was the fuss? First, Jack and now, the Doctor. What was up with everyone today?

"I said you're _not _Martha Jones," the Doctor repeated and the timbre in his voice deepened rapidly, "I don't who you are or where you come from, but I'm warning you now, show yourself." The Doctor gaited forward decisively and practically obscured Martha's view with his (skinny) frame. "By the power of the Shadow Proclamation, I demand you to state your name, race, planet of origin and intentions."

"Doctor…"

"Doc, what're you talking about? - this _is _Martha," Jack stepped in resourcefully and then a sudden epiphany rang in his head, leading him to shake his head in disbelief. "Oh come on, you're not saying… Don't you think I would've known if someone broke into the Hub? I do run the place, you know."

"Oh and that's why you locked yourself out of the Hub, 'cos you 'forgot' the base code?" Gwen asked cheekily, in her strong Welsh accent but only influenced hard glares from her boss and a promptly stifled chuckle from Ianto.

"Gwen, now is not the time," Jack, replied seriously, his goodness-knows-how-many-year-old head trying to analyse the weightiness of the situation

Gwen blushed and stepped back vaguely, muttering, "Sorry."

Jack's head was whirring with possibilities – the Doctor's prediction couldn't be true could it? The Captain counted the reasons off in his head: _she,_ well as far as they knew anyway, looked like Martha, she sounded like Martha, she _smelt_ like Martha, she sure-enough felt like Martha – judging from their long-lasting embrace but he'd have to test the _taste _theory later…

"Can somebody please tell me what the hell is goin' on here?" Martha insisted, but proved no prevail.

"You can't just assume that she's some sort of alien intruder! Where's the evidence? I mean, if Martha really is an alien then wouldn't she have attacked by now? Can't you accept the fact that she's alive and happy?" Jack protested and added coldly. "Or is that too much to ask?"

The Doctor shot the Captain daggers.

"If I can just…?" Ianto broke the silence and gestured himself speaking, triggering a small nod from the Doctor who refused to remove his cold glare away from the Captain.

"I'm not sure what it was called, but you had that _bleepy_ blue device and you used it to scan Gwen to see what was wrong with her – I was just thinking, maybe you could somehow use it to see whether it's the real Martha or not?" He crooked his head around to sheepishly face Martha. "Not that I don't believe it's you, of course."

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that before?" the Doctor's face instantly lit up. "Ianto, wasn't it? That's not a bad idea actually - _brilliant_ in fact!"

The Doctor's face darkened, as he glanced at the so-called Martha out of the corner of his eye, but he stuck his hand in his breast pocket and produced his trusty Sonic Screwdriver. Muttering, he walked towards Martha and pointed it at her.

"If I just… flip the settings to, oh… 37.5 and then adjust the binary-code settings to maximum power – redirecting the multiplexity self-assessing triple quadropicular settings to analyse bodily functions and deoxyribonucleic acid, otherwise known as D.N.A. If I remember correctly, which I do _very_ well – might I just _modestly_ add, I have Martha Jones's blood sample stored in the Screwdriver, from the last time _we_ went trampling through the 'Forbidden Jungle' without permission and ignored the warning signs."

"You mind taking out the 'we'. Wasn't that just you, who ignored the warnings?" Martha interrupted, with a smile.

"Let's just see if who you claim to be…" The Doctor ignored her and gave a final button press and the blue light flickered in Martha's direction, as the clever device scanned the woman up and down.

Removing the Sonic Screwdriver from the even now perplexed Martha, the Doctor skimmed the readings and the guilty sheepish expression his face bore as he looked up, told all.

"So…" Martha asked testily, "Am I an intruder or not?"

The Doctor grinned and scooped the girl up into an warm hug, apologising under his breath.

"Sorry," he uttered finally to Martha – this time loud enough for everyone to hear. "Let's just say it hasn't been my sort of week."

"Now, would someone explain to me, please, why you'll all so tense and acting as if I've just escaped death?"

The Doctor and Jack exchanged glances, then the tale was told from start to finish, beginning at the Doctor's sudden appearance, Donna's wiped memory, the shocking news, the Life Knife, the discovery and all leading up to the reports of the twenty-eight deceased and why Martha's presence had shocked them all. Of course, all of that and minus the interruptions of Martha's mobile ringing with a dozen shocked, awed and squeamish family members to answer to, all unable to believe the stunning fact that the news was wrong and Martha Jones was still alive.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"... And that leads up to now," Jack concluded.

"You're joking?" Martha gasped in disbelief, now settled down on the Hub's small green couch with a cup of Ianto's magical secret-recipe coffee in her hands. She stared around at them all, looking for the small piece of body language that would send one of them into a fit of laughter, but only found four sombrely deadpan faces and smiled weakly. "This is just…"

"Confusing?"

"Unbelievable?"

"Annoying?"

The corners of her lips twitched and curved upwards broadly, accompanied by a raised eyebrow. "I was gonna say that the coffee was absolutely amazing but…"

They all laughed, but the silence fell upon them again.

"…"

"I still can't believe that about Donna, I mean how's she gonna cope? And Rose… I really am sorry, Doctor," Martha rested a comforting hand on top of the Doctor's, who grinned – a little too unconvincingly.

"Nah, no need! Everything's fine now – as right as rain! Funny expression that, you know, 'cos all you humans ever do is always complain about how much you hate the rain and hate getting wet, wishing for more sun and moving to Spain. But then one day one of your lots goes and invents a saying how good as rain, everything is. But I s'pose it wouldn't be as catchy if you had to go around saying, 'As right as sun'. It wouldn't give the same kinda ring, don't you think?

"Donna's fine! Her family's keeping a look out for her, and she'll be alright without me… You know, Nobles, they always pull through! And Rose… Rose is… She's… _Yeah_."

"No you're not alright," Martha said quietly.

"Anyway!" the Doctor exclaimed brightly, "We've told you our side of the story, so how about you 'spill the beans' – another strange expression that, humans, you never fail to amaze me."

Jack's American lingo frazzled the awkwardness of the situation. "What I want to know, Martha Jones, is how in the name of TARDIS you managed to fake your own death."

"But, that's the thing, I didn't," Martha said for what she thought was the millionth repetition.

"But it was on the news and everythin'," Mickey contradicted. "I saw the explosion myself – the whole thing – beginning till end and it looked real, alright. We all saw it, didn't we, Gwen?"

Gwen nodded.

"I didn't fake my own death or escape from anything, because… I didn't do the mission," Martha confessed.

They all stared at her.

"It was on such a short notice and you should know," Martha looked up at Jack. "You were there Jack, but I couldn't turn them down, well not exactly after all the things I've put UNIT through."

"What _you_ put UNIT through?" Jack laughed coldly.

"It was an irrational decision, I know, and deep down, I couldn't do it… I just couldn't… It was a huge risk and none of us knew the consequences, but that's when I found my chance."

"Why didn't you just tell them you didn't want to do it?" Gwen butted in.

"I signed the contract – they more or less forced me to, the minute I got there, saying that I wasn't allowed to back out of the game. But that's when I met Professor Docherty again – Doctor, Jack, you must remember her – on the Valiant with the Master."

The Doctor nodded and Jack shivered in remembrance, while Ianto, Gwen and Mickey just shrugged at each other unknowingly.

"It turned out; UNIT had offered her a job as researcher and archaeologist. It just so happened that she was in on this mission – but she wasn't allowed to participate hands-on with this mission because of her age," Martha added. "Sorry, forgot to tell you, UNIT has this age policy… Anyway, I didn't want to go but Professor Docherty did. She'd seen the reports of the Crucible and she'd go on about how she'd love to actually go up into space, and explore the alien ruins to see it all for herself.

"Then there was my chance. We swapped uniforms on the day and I sneaked out of base, while she took my place on the mission and I left… I went to the hospital to see Tom and I thought I'd visit you guys and…"

It was as if a bomb had been ticking in her head and now, it found its chance to explode. Abruptly, Martha gasped and tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back reluctantly. _Martha, what have you done?_

"_Oh_. Twenty-eight: she was one of the twenty-eight… I sent Professor Docherty to her deathbed."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

_10:30pm._

Three rounds of pizza and Pepsi later, Martha finished nibbling the slice of her _Meat Feast _pizza and leaned back into the comfy green couch, reflecting on just… everything. Today, she was the reason for somebody's death and Martha couldn't get over it. It was all her fault.

"Try not to kill yourself over it – Ianto won't be appreciating it in the morning," Gwen said to her, and succumbed to a small chuckle with Martha. "No matter what you say Martha, I'm with Jack on this an' it wasn't your fault. Be glad you're still 'ere, eh? "

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"'M headin' home boss," Mickey called out to the Captain, picking up his belongings and popping his empty coffee mug on the table.

"Mickey Smith, you walk out that door then don't bother coming back tomorrow," the Captain warned him jokily, poking his head round the door to laugh at Mickey's stunned expression. He nodded "Go on: off you go." A sudden thought came to his head. "Oh and Mickey-the-idiot, I want that flat of mine spotless."

Grinning to himself, Mickey walked out into the corridor and yelled back, "Whatever you say Captain Cheesecake."

Ever since that gorgeous sunny afternoon, when Mickey had decided to stay on this Earth and not the Parallel, Captain Jack had lent Mickey the keys to the spare flat he'd never found the need to use, because he'd spent so much time at Torchwood that he'd set up camp there instead.

So for the past six evenings, including this one, Mickey mooched back to his temporary

'home' where he was situated to stay in, until he found the cash and time to buy himself a proper flat to call his own.

Torchwood was like his proper home now, though, even though he'd barely worked there a week and he was loving the work he got picked to do – because, now he was back, he loved the feeling that he was part of a team and not just a spare part anymore. It made him feel independent and his own person, for once in his life.

Though he had to admit, the Doctor's visit had messed everything right up.

But where was life without the pressure?

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Treading reluctantly through the trays of messy congealed scraps of pizza, Gwen fished her coat off the back of her chair, and bid them goodbye – hitting the haystack for the night. The Doctor warned her in advance that she'd need to get a lot of sleep if Gwen wanted to hear what was in for her tomorrow…

She suspected it was something to boost their chances and maybe something that wasn't entirely easy, as he refused to tell her. All this flipping Knife shenanigans seemed to be draining all the energy out of her, but a quick scan from the alien-tech scanner showed no energy spikes. Therefore, she was stuck with it, for now.

Gwen didn't want to disappoint the Doctor, for his chances to save the infamous Rose because she knew how many more lives would go to waste if they didn't try to save just this one, and she didn't want to let down her team. Both Torchwood and the Doctor relied on her to get them somewhere, because for some weirded out reason she was special, much to her bemusement, and was the only one that could use the Life Knife. Use its power to _cut _windows into space, time and… Universes.

But this reputation made her tired and certainly didn't help her relationship with Rhys, so she was afraid that she'd have to back out of the project very soon – if things didn't improve and dragged on for a lot further. She'd overheard the Doctor and Captain Jack bicker more than enough times to know that they were both aware, that their chance of saving Rose was slim now and they'd have to go through a hell lot more until something actually _happened_.

The world was a strange place.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Humming to himself, Ianto washed the last of the coffee mugs and stacked them on the drying rack. Checking that the coffee machine was fully stocked up for the next day on the way, he serenely skipped down the grilled stairs with the bucket of raw meat and fed a happily contented Myfanwy who cawed and flapped her wings, at the young man's presence.

"There we go girl…" he muttered softly, patting her head. All that time he'd spent training her and feeding really paid off, enabling him to have a Pterodactyl as a good friend and pet. To be honest, Ianto reckoned that the secretive stashes of chocolate he discreetly gave the Pterodactyl softened her up a bit.

Ianto, willingly, cleared up the rest of the mess and put everything to perfection before packing up to go home, seeing as Jack was busy escorting Martha back home to check on her family. Nodding politely at the Doctor, who found his comfort sifting through a bunch of files, Ianto set up the security instalments for the night, closed down the fake tourism office and traipsed back home.

"What the hell?" Ianto wondered aloud, gaping at the sight of a weevil carrying a six-pack of beer, a handful of suspiciously colourful bottles, a load of other bizarre things and a ripped pack of crisps. The weevil gave Ianto a piercing glare and hobbled back down the manhole and into the sewers.

A flabbergasted and extremely confused Indian shopkeeper ambled out into the street, cursing under his breath and scratching his head as he failed to find the strange _thing_ that had shoplifted half his Convenience Store.

Ianto frowned, sighed and dawdled back on his way – reciting the words of _Amarillo_ in his head.

The Universe was a funny old thing.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Expecting you to report to work tomorrow, Miss Jones," Jack stated cheekily, before grabbing Martha into a goodbye hug and grinning wildly.

"Sure thing _sir_," Martha smiled widely and mock saluted her ex-boss, who clambered back into the SUV and winked at her.

Grinning, Martha sprinted up the smoothly cemented grey pavestones and rapped on the door to her mum _and_ dad's house. Not long after, she was greeted and pulled into an enormous affectionate embrace by a highly ecstatic Tish and a just as worried and happy Francine Jones – followed by the rest of the family, who nearly-but-didn't crush her.

"Martha!" Tish cried out, "Where the hell 'ave you been?"

"Thank goodness you're alive!" exclaimed Francine, "Darling, what's been going on?"

"It's really you," Clive Jones joined in. "But the news…"

"Where's my little favourite sister been?" Leo seemed to be the only sane one around here and calmly 'respected' her with a clang on knuckles and a tight hug.

She was home and life was good.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Giving a final wave at a family-surrounded Martha, Jack saluted the girl who had the voice of a nightingale and drove off into the night – managing to chase a weevil or two back into the sewers, with his (reckless) charming driving skills.

Blasting up the volume to maximum, much to some fellow motorist's annoyance, Captain Jack loudly sang along to the radio as he zoomed down the highway – without a care in the world.

"Next stop, Torchwood," he murmured to himself, swerving a dodgy motorcyclist and turning a corner.

Life was _long_, for him at least, and he had to make the most it while he still could.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Time couldn't be going any slower, for the Doctor, as he sped-read through armfuls of unwanted papers – trying to spot even the slightest hint of _Life Knife _phenomena or _Time Windows_ but failed doing so.

Tomorrow, he'd have to ask Gwen to work her magic on the Knife again and endeavour open a window – it hadn't worked so far and he doubted it would work this time, but what was life if you gave up every five minutes? It was worth a try. The Doctor decided he'd take a risk, that wouldn't put the Universe but put _his_ mind in danger, by allowing his Time Lord consciousness to connect with Gwen's mind to try and boost the power of opening a Time Window.

Rubbing his eyes, the Doctor got through all the security checks, and exited the Hub – lumbering back to the TARDIS. The ship hummed with delight and the happiest of emotions flooded into the Doctor's head, as the TARDIS welcomed its owner once again.

"Found another way, old girl?" he said softly, padding over to the TARDIS's Gallifreyan computer monitor.

The TARDIS's lights dimmed, to motion to the Time Lord that the ship had found no success. In companionable silence with his ship, the Doctor tinkered with a couple of controls and read the swirly circular symbols on the screen in satisfaction. What they were doing at Torchwood, luckily and fortunately, wasn't harming the Universe at all and it seemed as if only the Rift was being affected – nothing dangerous or life-threatening though.

It would be a week tomorrow, since Torchwood and he had started working on the project to get Rose back, but a week tomorrow, the Doctor was sure that nothing would happen. Just the same results, all over again. Even if they did get there in the end and managed their way back into Rose's Universe – he suspected things would've already taken a turn for the worst.

However, if _that_ was the case, which he would have to accept when the time came, at least he knew that he tried his best. Even if all chances were down, he hoped he could just see Rose, if only for the last time, to tell her the something he'd been meaning to tell her all these years.

Better late than never…

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&****&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**A/N:- **

**Try this funky riddle out:**

_**No legs have I to dance,**_

_**No lungs have I to breathe,**_

_**No life have I to live or die**_

_**And yet I do all three.**_

**What am I? **

**THANKS FOR READING AND REVIEWING! **

**Now if you'd just scroll down and press a certain little greenish button there…**


	13. Collapse

**A/N: - Thanks for your groovy reviews, people – keep 'em coming?!**** This is a rather dark, but it's all done in the name of fun! **

**NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM 2 ROXX… ****- Tres tres amusante et marrante! ****Cabot Circus is also amazing… But I still need to phone a friend to go and watch Star Trek… *sobs* LOL!**

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who doesn't belong to me and neither does Torchwood… There I said it – happy now?!**

**HAPPY READING!**

**=D =D =D =D =D**

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_Three weeks later_

Believe it or not, I could actually walk around Torchwood without being gossiped about or stared at, and was actually treated like an _ordinary_ person, again. I didn't have to mooch about with guards following my every step and I could truly say 'Hello' to somebody, without getting checked to see if I was all right.

Ever since Torchwood's 'Welcome back' party, everyone assumed that that was a tell-tale sign that I was cured and everything was back to normal again. Mum and (not) dad encouraged this greatly, and news stories flooded out explaining of my _miraculous recovery_. But I didn't protest, even though not everything was _OK _and I certainly wasn't cured. I let them do what they pleased – I'd had enough attention and pity to last a life time and all the 'fame' made me feel like one of those 'Mary-Sue' type characters.

Mum was there, when Doctor Yana had explained my _deteriorating _condition and my 'instability'_, _but I think she'd chosen to ignore this and decisively go for the option that I was cured. This was the complete opposite of what the doctor had said – he refused to discharge me, in the first hand. He'd only let me go, because I compromised to wear his stupid health watch thingy-majiggy and 'promised' to rush to the hospital or call him, if anything rash happened. Nothing did, of course.

Well, that was my view of things, anyway. I'd been so used to the migraines, dizziness, aches, colds, lethargy whatnot and the yellow blinkity-blink of the watch, that, to me, it was considered normal. It was nothing new, except for the _mere_ fact, it had jumped from once a week to every day, but nobody would ever find out - yes, maybe I did resort to the don't-tell-anyone fiasco but it was the only option for peaceful living! What would you have chosen?

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

All ten of us – John, Aryl, Jake, Tosh, Oasis, Georgia, Matt, Fayosi, Rheann and me - sat around the giant round white-clothed table, each taking it in turn to swivel the _Lazy Susan_ and choose our random dish. Dad had booked us at this posh Chinese restaurant to celebrate our triumphant defeat against the Sontarans, while he stayed at home to baby-sit Tony, 'cos mum was out with some of her newly founded mates.

They had crash-landed onto the planet, but soon threatened the world with a nuclear warhead, if we didn't surrender ourselves to them. Like we'd do that! So with Torchwood's top field agents, ancient paintball guns disguised as lasers, some alien technology, and a whole load of teamwork – we managed to track them down, use John as a distraction (I think that little hint of Donna, made his gob all the more threatening), and blast them back into space to where they belonged.

"What did exactly 'appen in the forest then, Jake? One second you were with us and the next, we heard you _screaming_ half a mile away!" Aryl asked suddenly, gesturing his broken bandaged right arm.

"I was so not screamin'," Jake protested defensively.

She raised her eyebrows. "How dya break your arm? You still 'aven't told us anything yet!"

"Well, it all began, when…"

Stabbing the roast potatoes on my plate with a fork, I slouched down into a comfortable position, yawned and let the headache, which pressurised to attack, wash over me. Any headache was _better_ than one of Jake's lengthy, boring conversations.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

I yawned for, what was thought, the twentieth time that evening at Jake's long-winded story and stole a glance at John, who was wearing his usual blue-pinstripes and grinned back at me – mockingly pretending to pass out. I grinned back at him weakly, and then swiftly twisted my head back round to face Jake. Shielding my eyes from the pulsating painful light of the chandeliers, I groaned inwardly and willed Jake to hurry up, so I could go home and indulge myself in the darkness

"So, there I was, hiding in the forest from them Sultanas," Jake explained,

"_Sontarans_," John corrected promptly.

Jake flushed a bright scarlet, but continued. "Yeah anyway, so there I was hiding with the _Sontarans_ and that's when I overheard their plan to dominate the Earth and turn us into their slaves. So, I tried to sneak off back to you guys when--"

My fist involuntarily banged and shook the table, as I erupted into an abrupt coughing fit and struggled to beat down the emergent scratching against the back of my throat. _20:30pm_ was the cue 'allergic reactions' to start up. Everyday. Ever single flipping day. Today wasn't any better, worse in fact; it had started twelve hours earlier, this time. Just I'd just got out the house and had been bugging me all day – building up.

In fact, it had worsened in the last three days – when the blood starting making its appearance again through cough and sneezes. I hid the stomach cramps and headaches at work; by popping out to the loo, every so often and the excuse worked. For a while and when it grew suspicious – I blamed it on my monthly 'visits' from the painters. Yep, as embarrassing as it goes, I s'pose. Although, on that subject – I hadn't actually been having my periods regularly since… since _two years ago_.Unless you counted once every six months or so, to be regular.

Goodness knows how much I hated this.

They all stopped to stare at me, as the coughing grew harsher and my face grew redder. Matt thumped me on the back, until I stopped, reflexive tears streaming down my face from the impact of the cough.

"Rose, you all right?" John asked quietly, stretching over and resting a caring hand on my shoulder. _Oh_, he had to say it, didn't he?

Another cough.

"You look a bit pale." Oasis agreed.

"Yeah," I choked out loudly, accepting the Georgia's tissue, and wiping up the escapee trails of mascara and dried tears. Blinking, I adjusted myself back to the burning rays of light and whacked the vertigo out of my head. Morecoughs. "A bit too much of the--" Another cough and the phlegm rose in my throat."--wine I think!"

They all laughed a little, muttering in agreement and tearing their gazes away from me – flowing back into relaxation and breaking into jovial conversations. I pressed the already dirty tissue to my mouth, as I coughed again and was joined by a horrible yet sweet metallic taste. Phlegm? I licked my lips testily and found the same taste lurking on the tip of my tongue.

Averted from their stares, I peeled the tissue away from my mouth and hitched a breath – _blood_. I cautiously dabbed at the sticky red substance to check if it wasn't a trick of the light, but it was blood all right – hot, sticky and thick. The itchiness revved up once more and I cupped my mouth with my fingers, only to leave them blemished with thick redness. I hurriedly wiped them on my dress and was extremely gratified that I'd chosen to wear dark midnight blue, tonight.

I swung my hair over my shoulders to hang like a thick yellow curtain to shield my head from nosey neighbours and bowed my head, as I rolled up my dress sleeve to check the watch thing. It was red – a fiery dark crimson, the same colour as blood. Heart rate – 156 bpm. (Mind you, my heart wasn't going half-fast right now…) Blood pressure – 217! Blimming hell. It had never reached that high before. Could it even go that high? I clicked on the 'Overall Bodily Analysis' button and it showed up _100% - No bodily disorder. All systems functional. _AKA: nothing was wrong with me. Yeah right.

Whipping the bloodstained tissue and watch way out of sight, I broke into a steady grin and chattered away to the people one either sides of me. My head throbbed every time I moved my head and the light seemed to _burn _me.

However, whenever I looked to my abrupt left, John's eyes always seemed to flicker suspiciously at me - and the clenched tissue in my hand. However, as the minutes ticked by, the antipathy slowly but surely disappeared, as they always did. But for how long?

"You sure you're all right?" Georgia muttered to me privately, "You seriously don't' look too well."

"Course I am!" I said, with as much optimism and surprise as I could muster. "Why d'you say that?"

"I've known you ever since you set foot in Torchwood, Rose, don't think I don't you that well," she lowered her voice even more, "Is it the _illness_, the one everyone keeps saying, you have? The reason why you were away for so long. Is that what's wrong?"

I lied through the skin of my teeth, "Nah, it can't be. It's been cured, remember?"

"I know but… these past couple of days, it's like you're --"

To my great relief Anna interrupted our conversation and led Georgia into another one. Choosing to be solitary, I leaned back into my seat and pensively gazed at the v

Suddenly, I jolted forward and cupped my mouth. My stomach knotted up all of a sudden and I was struck by a horrible queasy feeling, as if I'd just been punched full in the belly. I retched and the distantly familiar sweet metallic feel rose up my throat. I heaved sorely. Hell, did it hurt. Throat burning, I reluctantly forced the vomit back down, but it was inevitable and I retched. The room span, the lights burned and my heart pulsated forbiddingly in my ears. It sounded like a time bomb, counting down the seconds until it exploded…

As casual as possible, I slipped out of my seat and muttered a chancy excuse - legging it as soon as I was out of view.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Heaving, I shut my eyes and spilled out the contents into the clear washbasin – hands braced on the marble top and head leaned forward. The raw friction lacerated the weak layering of my throat and it was as if sulphuric acid had burned me throat and upwards, as the vomit poured out of me, causing spontaneous tears to run like a river down the apples of my cheeks. I licked my lips slowly and felt the familiar tang of metal and sickening sweetness invade my mouth. I knew that taste - it was like…

My eyes snapped open to the throbbing artificial light and I gasped, stumbling back a couple of inches I grimaced at the suspiciously thick crimson fluid that stained the interior of the should-be sparkling white sink and the truth sunk in. I was vomiting out blood. Lots of it too…

Nevertheless, as I reached for the taps, the nausea hit me, once more and the sticky hot blood poured out of my mouth – splattering the neighbouring classy marble-topped surface with speckles of the muggy redness. The blood clung to the basin like magnets against metal and refused to go down the drain.

Retching, I yanked a couple of taps open and gasped in relief as the transparent fresh cool water gushed out of the taps in a flourish, devouring the thick red substance into a mixture of blood and water. But the sounds _hurt_, so I flicked the tap off and slumped against a neighbouring wall, sliding to the floor with a bump – the noise of my collision reverberating clumsily in my ears

It wasn't over yet – oh no. I shut my eyes and the bile rose in my throat, but the blood didn't come out of my mouth – not this time. The first droplets of crimson splashed onto the lime-green marble floor, the quantities increasing rapidly as more and more dripped from my nose. My head was burning like hell itself – it was all too much. Where would the blood come out next? My flipping ears?

I cringed at the thought and sobbing, crawled weakly into the nearest toilet cubicle to grab a roll of paper to stop the blood flow. I pinched the bridge of my nose and held my head up, but it was about five minutes later when I gave up because the blood didn't seem to care. It flowed and flowed, until I swore that nothing could stop it.

The tissues wouldn't stop it and pinching it wouldn't stop it – it went on forever. I felt like all the blood in my body was streaming out of my nose, rushing through my head and increasing my pulse.

Even the watch agreed. I laughed ironically, reading its results. Blood pressure: ERROR. Heart Rate: ERROR. Overall Bodily Analysis: NOTHING.

That's when I went mental.

I stopped thinking - I wasn't thinking – more to the point, I _couldn't _think, because I was so het-up and my brain was trying to cope with so many different things at once: the dizziness, the headaches, the bleeding.

I stopped using the tissues. I stopped and let the blood cascade onto my hands, wiping the red stuff on every available surface I could find. Because I didn't know what to do with myself and not long after, the walls were marked with, what could only be described as, litres and litres of spilt blood.

The pounding started up, but I realised it was footsteps coming closer. Hands drenched in blood, I collapsed onto my knees and covered my ears from the inevitable pounding of footsteps. The dizziness span my vision round and round; the light charred my mind and the blood – it just kept on flowing. I lay on my side and rocked myself back and forth, hunched up in a tight bloodied ball – scared to death, because nothing would stop. The vertigo; the headaches; the pain and… the blood. I was going to die.

The footsteps boomed to a cease and there was an ear-splitting scream, as the door banged open and shut loudly. I must've looked crazy, a wreck or maybe even, a creature from the horror films – laid on the floor surrounded and covered in blood.

Then the darkness engulfed me.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

_Doctor,_

_I don't know why I'm doing this, pretending to write a letter to a bleeding Time Lord in another Universe, who couldn't care less about Rose, but Pete said I should do it to 'express' my feelings – yeah right, it's probably to prevent me lashing out at him. He acts so calm and untroubled, yet you should've seen the state of him in the hospital today. He cares so much for Rose. Bless._

_I just saw Rose today – in the hospital. They keep saying she'll never wake up from this coma – 'a disaster that was bound to happen' they said. It's been a month now, since they found her unconscious in that bathroom. The same night I went out partying with my friends, when I came back the house was empty. I slept on it, thinking they'd all slept round Tony's Uncle's house or something, but then Pete, Tony and your clone - mind you, he's doing better than you ever will do – came back and… and…and that's when they told me the news. I was in hysteria and goodness knows how much of a wreck I was, but Pete helped me. They told me the basics of what happened, but they were hiding something from me, I could tell by the motherly instinct I have and half of them broke down crying when I asked anything else. _

_She's stuck in an endless sleep – fed and watered through tubes. She' so pale and thin, like a… untouched porcelain doll, I s'pose. Alright I'm lying, but no matter how I look a t it, my Rose, my beautiful baby girl looks like a… corpse. A corpse. We try not to let Tony see her nowadays - that's how bad it is_

_Yes, you heard me. That's how bad__** she is**__, Doctor and hear me out now; it's all YOUR fault. If you hadn't dumped us, dumped __**Rose**__, in flaming Norway to look after your clone, then she wouldn't be like this. She went through absolute hell trying to get to you and __**this **__is what she gets in return. She loved you and you rejected her – I told her that you were a bad influence. All you men are the same – whether you're human or alien or an animal I don't care, cos nobody, __nobody,__ can get away with treating my daughter like this.. _

_I swear to you, I am going to rip the Universe and all that whatnot open with my bare hands, if I have to, if it means I can find you and give you one hell of a slapping. 'Cos… Cos, if she dies, Doctor – then… I'll never forgive you. You'd better save her. Or you'll have ME to deal with, you will. _

_I'm sorry for lashing out at you like that, but you don't know how it feels, as a mum, to see Rose in such a terrible condition and it breaks my heart to see her like this. I know you probably meant well when you left her with the other you and probably didn't know about her 'illness' – even I didn't know until after you left and she collapsed on the beach._

_Well, I better cook Tony his tea and meet Doctor Yana then._

_Love,_

_Jackie. _

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**A/N:- THANKS FOR READING! In case you didn't notice, that ^^^ section's written from Jackie's POV because Rose… Oh you know what's wrong with her!!**

**Yummy, the leprechauns are offering cake and choccie milk – I can't resist. I must go with them! See you later…**

**OH AND ALL MISTAKES ARE MINE AND MINE OWNLY!**

**Reviews are GREATLY loved and appreciated!**


	14. My World

**A/N:- HAPPY READING!**

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who is (****NOT****) mine! :P**

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_One week later_ 21:43

"Jack, the Rift readings are going mental!" Martha exclaimed hurriedly into her Bluetooth earpiece, scanner in hand. "The scanner's saying something's going on in the Hub. Massive energy spikes. Is everything OK down there? JACK? JACK!?"

"What's Jack say?" Mickey persisted, craning his head back to face Martha.

"I don't know!" Martha yelled in anxiety, causing Mickey to jump back. "Sorry… Jack's not replying. I don't know what's going on down there. It's all static!"

"Have you tried to get the Doctor?"

"He's not picking up my phone."

"So where to: the Hub or the Weevil rave down the ASDA?" Ianto asked hurriedly, hands tightly gripped on the SUV's steering wheel and eyes quickly flickering to the mirror, as he swerved a corner. "I say we head for ASDA to beat the traffic but…"

"The Hub!"

"The Weevil rave!"

Martha and Mickey shot each other wary glares, but Martha was the first to speak, "If something's wrong in the Hub then it's our duty to help our team-mates."

"Yeah," Mickey stated, "But isn't it Torchwood's duty to protect the Cardiff an' not jus' care 'bout ourselves," A sudden thought struck him and he muttered something only Ianto could hear – so he thought. "'Sides, chasing Weevils around a busy supermarket is gonna be much more fun."

"I heard that," Martha warned him, with the hint of a smile. "I still say we check on Jack first."

"What if someone's dyin' right now?"

"Why don't we just do this the sensible way and toss a coin?" Ianto settled.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Back in the Hub, all that could be seen was an enormous pulse of stunning white light and the estranged wailings of Janet and the other Weevils, down in Torchwood's basement.

"Martha? Martha? Can you hear me? MARTHA?" Jack sighed, broke the connection with Martha on his Bluetooth earpiece, and strode over to the Doctor. "I've lost connection with the rest of the team."

The Doctor just laughed happily, "She's creating a gateway between the two Universes!"

Jack watched intently as Gwen was surrounded by light of a yellowy colour, like a giant halo around her, as the Welsh girl caught herself in trance and started _adjusting_ the air in front of her face.

"Is it safe?" Jack asked in concern.

"A new window is being unlocked and Gwen's siphoning a new opening in a new environment which hasn't been touched but this sort of technology before, so there's bound to be effects and a rebound outcome spouting from the multiplex core of the Rift, but…" the Doctor explained wordily. "Yes, it's safe. The most danger is only here, in this Hub but Cardiff and the Earth itself won't be at risk."

"And Gwen?" Jack enquired, "Doctor, answer me, is Gwen_ safe_?"

The Doctor paused and a dark grim look passed his features. The Captain was just about to protest and give the Doctor a taste of his own medicine when…

"Jack, I've told you before and I'm telling you again, this hasn't ever been done before – not on Earth, anyway and there's _never_ been a human this powerful to be able to manipulate such power," he took a deep breath. "Things could go wrong and there could be a mental backfire – I don't know. But, trust me Captain; I'll do _everything_ in my power to ensure that your co-worker is out of harm's way. I _won't_ let one life go, just to save another. Even if it is Rose, 'cos it doesn't work like that. I can promise you that."

"What the hell?" Captain Jack exclaimed suddenly, stumbling backwards.

"The world with zeppelins…" Gwen whispered eerily, dropping the _Life Knife_ onto the floor with a heavy _CLANG_.

The Doctor turned to the focus of his attention and punched the air, grinning. It was done. The light was evaporating and the only light left was the yellowy-white glow encasing the five-foot window that stood proud and glowing in the light. Through the window was a totally different scenery – the scenery into the different world.

Gwen gasped and stumbled out of her trance, staggering backwards but luckily falling into the grateful arms of the Doctor, as she fell.

"Gwen Cooper," the Doctor smiled, pulling her back onto her feet. "You just opened the gateway into another Universe!"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Heads it is," Ianto said, nodding and quickly stepping onto the brakes – swivelling the Hub round into the other direction.

Mickey scowled and muttered darkly, "I still say we should go bust some Weevils."

"Would it make you better, if I told you that the rest of our co-workers could be dead?" Martha suggested hopefully and Mickey immediately shut up, suddenly worried about what Martha just said. "Thank you. Ianto, you wouldn't mind sending a transmission to that supermarket to get everyone to evacuate the building until Torchwood gets there, would you?"

"Already done," Ianto informed.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"I did that," Gwen muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. It was more of a statement than a question. "I still can't believe it – I opened a portal into a _different _Universe."

"The world with zeppelins," the Doctor said, repeating Gwen's earlier words. His mind rung out with something else, _the world with Rose Tyler._

Crap, what the blimming hell am I s'posed to tell Rhys: 'Rhys, did I tell you, I'm not only a Torchwood officer any more who battles aliens but they call me the 'Chosen One' an' I can now open portals into different Universes an' worlds with a knife. All thanks to a Time Lord who's got a blue box that can travel in time '"

"Nah," the Doctor chirped nonchalantly. "Just tell him I'm an alien with five eyes, a lust for human blood and a tail, who happened to have a time machine that's as big as an asteroid," He winked at her mischievously, "You'll get a bigger reaction."

Gwen opened her mouth to protest but Captain Jack interrupted, "Do we go through?"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ianto carefully parked the car in its designated spot and they all jumped out. They filed to the fake Tourism Office and Ianto, after a long lengthy moment of scrabbling about in his pockets and, deciding which the correct key was, slotted the key snugly into the lock, and unlocked the door.

"I hope they're OK," Martha said, sighing.

She checked the scanner to find that the energy spike from the Rift had died down a little, but still dominated the central part of the Hub and seemed to be causing a great rise in room temperature. Martha tapped her Bluetooth earpiece, yet still only heard static and a lot of rumbling.

"Still no response."

Ianto quickly tapped out the correct sequence on the little computerised security lock and it beeped politely, unleashing the locks, as the huge metal cog – that played the role of a door, chugged slowly open.

"Ladies first," he said, clearing his throat and beckoning for Martha to go through first, who teased him momentarily and was soon followed by Mickey, then Ianto himself.

Reaching for the stun gun in her leather holster, that the Doctor never failed to nag her about, Martha crept forward, inserting the code for the last security door and watched cautiously as it slid open. Mickey and Ianto flowed onwards, Mickey also armed with his supplied stun gun and Ianto armed with the knowledge of how to punch somebody in the face, without breaking his own fist.

"OH MY…" Martha's voice rang out from the inside of the Hub and the two men rushed to her side, only to gawp with her.

They watched in shock one of the Doctor's long pinstripe-clad legs disappear through what looked like a window, surrounded by a throbbing angelic yellowy-white glow. After a couple of clickers on the alien scanner, with a 'little' help from Mickey, Martha drunk in the fact that there was nobody else inside the Hub, except those three. Well, excluding Janet, the other Weevils and the pet Pterodactyl – then there was nobody else except them. It appeared that they had all stepped through the 'window' type thing and into the light. The scanner refused to tell them what the window was and kept insisting that it didn't exist, even though it very well did.

"Wha's in there?" Mickey said aloud.

"It could be anything…"

"I'm going after them!" Martha shouted in warning, as she quickly strode off but craned her head back round. "You coming or what?" snapping out of her awed stupor, darted down the metal-grating steps, and vanished into the light. She had to do this.

"Martha?!" Ianto called worriedly after her, but the girl had already gone.

"Where d'you think you're goin'?" Mickey asked, pointing an accusing finger at the man in question – Ianto Jones, who was currently jogging down the steps and into the commotion of light too. "There could be anything through there! It's dangerous! You can't just go…"

But Ianto had already apologised and went in after Martha.

Mickey took a deep breath and shook his head determinedly, "My _Tin Dog_ days are so over."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Gwen opened her eyes again, as she stepped onto the other side and gasped in awe. She looked back into the window and met the Hub, right in front of her. Yet, she was in a completely different surrounding. In a different Universe. Aliens she could deal with, but a different Universe altogether?! It was mental. Insanely mental. She grinned weakly at the Doctor who'd proceeded to step through after her.

"This is bonkers, this is," she breathed finally, gazing around in the darkness.

"Where the hell is this place?" Jack piped up, gesturing the dark area around him. The whole place was covered head to foot in huge metal filing cabinets, stacked against each other and only illuminated by the pulsing light of the _Time Window_.

"Looks like some sort of," He pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver and pointed it to the above, grinning to himself as dozens of lights flickered on. "Storage facility…"

"S'bit… _dull_," Gwen added, "I mean, where _is_ everyone?"

"So this is Torchwood, parallel Universe, yeah?" Jack verified, hands in pockets as he strolled casually around the place – kicking cabinets and rapping on walls as he went.

"Not necessarily," stated the Time Lord, walking away from them and offhandedly examining the place. "I mean, yes, it could be but parallel Universes – there's thousands of them, each one stacked up against the other and all completely, _completely_ different, one little change could be the biggest difference. You never know. This could be Torchwood or this could be something else, a hospital, a school, a library, an abandoned warehouse… Anything, in fact, anything at all..."

"Martha, how nice of you to join us," Jack interrupted, grinning madly and encasing the newcomer into a bone-crushing hug. The Doctor whizzed around and stared at Martha in surprise and smiled – the girl probably just blundered through the Time Window without thinking. Typically Martha. Always the inquisitive one, eager to explore.

"Umm, could someone tell me where we are?" Ianto's voice rang on loudly, causing an echo to bounce off the walls. The Captain grinned toothily at him and nodded.

"You Mister, scared half to death," Martha grumbled defensively, prodding the Captain in the chest. "We all thought you were dead."

"More like _just_ you," teased a familiar voice that the Time Lord immediately recognised as Mickey's. "Me and Ianto wanted to go Weevil chasin'! I told you, they'd be all right!"

Mickey suddenly jerked to a stop, _realised_ his new surroundings and spun around – gasping at the sight of the Torchwood Hub through the window. "Woah...."

"Woah, indeed, Mr Mickey," the Doctor said, making his presence known as he strolled towards them.

"We're in Pete's world."

"You mean…" Mickey said, eyes bulging.

The Doctor nodded and erupted into a steady grin, "We're getting Rose back!"

"I don't think it's going to be so easy," Ianto put in.

"And why's that?" the Doctor boomed, frowning at the man and slightly hurt.

There was a scratchy clearing of throat behind the Doctor and he froze.

"Her," Ianto concluded, pointing at the figure behind them all.

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**A/N:- Reviews anyone? **

**=D =D =D =D =D**


	15. Forgotten

**A/N:- HEEHAW! Not many chapters left to go**** with this story. I really wanna get at least one story done so I can move onto another. Not saying I don't like this fanfic or anything?! *shifty eyes* Lol. **

**Oh and just to warn you,**** in case I haven't said before, in this fic Jackie still calls the human 'Doctor'. Oh and the first bit in italics is from the Human Doctor's/John's POV.**

**Thanks to KittyBridgeta (as always) for the latest reviews! Where are the rest of you people, eh?**

**Here, I'm in a HIPPY-HOPPY-HAPPY mood so have some choccies and rubber duckies! - **_**Rubber Ducky Rave**_**, you **_**HAVE**_** to listen to it. Plain amazing… HAPPY READING!**

**=D =D =D =D =D**

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_It's been nearly a whole year now, well exactly nine months and seventeen days, __ but she's still the same – even her face hasn't changed that much, despite how much time has passed and all the time she's been asleep. Still a sleeping beauty – still Rose… _

_I've tried my best and researched all I could with what I could find, but nothing's ever worked and I've never come close to finding anything. I've tried everything from textbooks to myths to trying-to-rip-an-undeadly-hole-in-the-Universe to Googling things up, but nothing's ever worked. It's so irritating – never being able to get things done. Being in this human body, it's so… __**frustrating**__! I'd get so much more if I were fully Time Lord. Having one heart, a brain that has an impossibly small storage capacity and the impossibility of escaping from emotions, well, I just can't see how these humans cope… _

_It's her birthday tomorrow, so Jackie's going down to visit Rose in the hospital I expect me and Torchwood – who've finally relaxed on the lethal weapons area, will probably visit her too. It's so heart breaking to see her like this. It's so __**wrong**__to see her so ill and comatose, when Rose was so lively, healthy and brave. But there's nothing anybody can do._

_The only thing we have left is hope…_

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I felt my consciousness roll back to me, but my muscles hadn't awakened yet and I was too weak to move properly. My eyes were sticky with sleep, my limbs ached at every little movement and my head throbbed horribly – as if somebody had just hit over the head with a mallet and there was a chunk of my brain missing. So, I stayed put and clamped my eyes totally shut. My fingers slowly but surely scratched at the material below me and I mentally confirmed that I was lying on a bed of some kind, with my head resting on a sunken albeit comfy pillow.

A bold feminine voice suddenly crashed into my hearing.

"An' I'm tellin' _you_ Doctor Joey or whatever your name is that she's wakin' up," a worried female voice exclaimed vehemently. I groaned softly at the voice, as a voice deep inside my head told me that it was familiar but all the same – I couldn't remember who _she _was. "I swear I saw her finger twitch an' all! I'm _not_ just imagining things, 'cos I know what I saw. Doctor, you saw it too, didn't you? Tell him!"

The word _Doctor_ sent another throb ricocheting through my head, as if it were of some importance but… nothing. I still couldn't remember why that word was so important in my life. To be honest, I could barely remember _anything _at all. It was all a huge blur – a  
grey fog, obscuring my view. And it hurt.

"Sorry, Jackie. I didn't see anything," This time a young cool male entered the conversation and I knew that voice from somewhere – but from where? I assumed that the loud bold woman was called 'Jackie' and familiarised her as that.

"Where's Doctor Yana? You know the older bloke that's Rose's _official_ doctor?"

_Rose. _Where had I heard that word before? I rifled through my brain for a memory, but I still couldn't find anything. It was all _blank_. Blanker than blank, I daresay.

"He's unavailable at the moment due to personal issues so if you'd just…"

Deciding that my muscles/joints/limbs would cramp up even more if I stayed stationary, I laboriously forced myself to painfully stretch my stiff limbs. I used my sore stiff hands to push down on the _bed_ and slowly hoist myself up, groaning at the painful repercussions of the sudden movement. My eyes were still closed, so when I snapped them back open, I found myself laid against a metal bed frame in what seemed like some sort of hospital room. I tried and tried, but found no recollection whatsoever as to how the hell I'd got here. It wasn't as if I had forgotten what a table was or what two add two equalled and all that whatnot, I got the general picture alright. But, I just _couldn't_ remember my life – no childhood, no teenage tantrums, no school, no arguments, just nothing and when I tried too hard… Flip, it hurt.

I adjusted myself to the pallid yet bright white light that stung my eyes and only illuminated my plain surroundings. The entire room was covered head to foot in an ordinary blinding white and practically all the furniture were the same colour too, except for the prominent splash of black that represented the television and the splatter of dark hazel, where a chest of drawers stood.

It was all too much to take in and I struggled with great distress to remember _anything_ at all. Great, just what I needed right now, _no memories_, when I didn't even know where I was and was stuck silly in a plain white room with nobody to turn to. Well, there were those three people outside that I could ask for help! I sat myself up in the most upright position; I could manage, and attempted to shift my legs. _Ouch_. I tried again. _Double ouch. _I groaned, as the consequence of trying too hard, hit me and I flopped back against the (UN) surprisingly _white_ metal frame – grumbling as my back rippled in repercussion.

Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I craned my neck forward and glanced at the open door where three colourful figures were chatting. I didn't know who they were, but to heck, they probably didn't know I was there. But by the sounds of it, they were talking about something pretty serious, so a bit of eavesdropping and noseying wouldn't hurt. Not really, anyway.

There was a loud feisty blonde lady in jeans and a colourful woollen top – hands on hips – possibly 'Jackie', a tall lean man with the scruffiest brown hair possible, clad in blue pinstripes and some doctor person, with decaying blonde hair and a pompous posture in the stereotypical white coat, stethoscope wound around his neck and a clipboard in hand.

I saw a mouth open to speak, but it was soon defeated by the sudden at least half a dozen or so voices that abruptly entered the conversation, as countless pairs of feet clattered noisily into the scene. A wide variation of people came onto set, clothed nattily in black and suited in (also) black flak jackets, with suspicious looking 'gadgets', in leather holsters and noticeable pockets.

"What's happening?" a voice asked curiously.

"We got 'ere as soon as you said that she was awake," informed another.

"I brought the birthday cake!"

"Now's not the time, Matt."

"Is it really true? Where is she?"

"Umm… Do you know where the drinks' machine is?" squeaked someone.

(I suspected that this voice was an outcast in this conversation.)

"Down the corridor, on the right."

"Pete says he's going to arrive here in half an hour."

"Trust 'im."

The conversation continued and I captured small snippets of it, everybody seemed to be very concerned with this mysterious 'Rose' person, whoever she was, but why they discussing about _her_ in front of _'my' _hospital room – I didn't have a clue. Who this Rose was, she must've been either been _extremely_ special or _extremely_ ill, or both, at the rate they were gibbering. It was pretty rude, to be honest – nattering away about some strange woman in front of a patient's room!

Well, that sorted that then – I needed answers and they were the only help I could get.

Groaning, I forced my limbs to contract and stretch, as I struggled upwards – swinging my legs arduously over the side of the bed and sliding them down onto the floor. I grabbed hold of the bedside table and forcefully pushed myself to stand, triggering awareness unwanted movement in my body and sending painful implications all around me. I staggered forward, but caught the pole of my IV, just in time. I failed at fourth attempt, suddenly hit by a vivid swarm of drowsiness and giddiness. I flopped back down onto the bed, silently cursing at the echoing thrum of my back bumping against harsh metal of the bed frame. Clutching hold of the bedside table, I attempted to move and get up again, but this time – my whole body throbbed in pain and defiance. This just wasn't going to work.

I sighed grudgingly. It was as if my whole body was against me, no scrap that, it was as if my body had been _asleep _for so long that it didn't know, no _didn't remember,_ how to function properly. Surely, whatever had happened to me couldn't have made me that weak… Even if I had been knocked out somehow, most likely chance at the present, I'd have only been out cold for only a couple of days. Oh, come on – a few weeks at the _mos_t. Goodness, this was all so confusing.

Determined to, at least, get-up properly, I gripped each side of the bed and pressed down, triumphantly hoisting myself up to rise on two feet. I whooped… but stumbled from loss of focus, crashed clumsily into the bedside table, and landed with an inelegant _oof_ onto the cold tiled floor – bumping into a load of other objects, in the way. I yelped, as my whole body went into seizure and froze, rippling extracts of pain around my body.

"_ROSE!" _ At least, a dozen voices cried out simultaneously.

Oh how great, I was sat there hurt, confused and groaning, yet all everybody outside seemed to care about was this _Rose_. Nobody care about me, then- all blunder off to attend to the needs of darling old Rose. Seriously, if I ever met her, I'd—_BANG!_ I banged my head against the hospital bed, trying to get up and _almost_ but didn't lose consciousness. Instead, when I recovered from the pain and craned my head up to open my eyes again... There they were, around thirteen or so people all gathered around me. I smiled to myself triumphantly – one to me, nil to _Rose –_ she'd have to wait.

They all seemed to _know _me and I felt like I knew them, but I didn't… Maybe I'd 'forgotten' them, I snorted quietly, yeah right, just like I'd 'forgotten' all my other memories. I don't think so…

But before I could do anything, the supposed _Doctor Joey_, the blonde called _Jackie_, the man in the blue pinstripes and two others rushed over to my aid and lifted me up to my bed again.They tucked me right in, and watched me in stunned silence.

Doctor Joey quickly checked me, but was forced to rush off to a _Life and death _emergency – claiming he'd come back later to run tests on me

"Oh, I can't believe it! You're awake! After a whole year!" _Jackie_ exclaimed, clamping me in a motherly embrace. I stayed silent, not sure what to think of it all.

"OH MY GOSH!" a tall strawberry-blonde woman shouted gleefully, running up to me and engulfing me into a hug.

Then they were all at it! Attacking me with questions, bombarding me with rambles, still not failing to mention this _Rose_ person and practically squeezing me to death with embraces. I didn't even know them – they were strangers! But at least it was nice and comforting, although painful. Very painful.

_Jackie_seemed to be most concerned (and ecstatic) though, smothering me with kisses, hugging me and generally whacking me lightly – all the while crying and laughing, at the same time. In fact, everybody else was the same – all almost or _in_ tears, laughing, hugging me, grinning, and babbling. And yet, they were strangers to me. What was going on? I didn't understand.

The man in the blue pinstripes, whom of which I still didn't know the name of, promptly came up to me– clapped me warmly on the back, eyes welled up with tears that were refusing to be shed, and rambled scientifical stuff at 100 miles per hour. Honestly, it was as if he were like that all the time. I just nodded and discreetly sunk down further into the covers.

"Good to see you, eh?" he said, smiling weakly, staring intently at me as if he'd known me for years. But, why didn't I know him?

"'M sorry," I croaked eventually, "But, I don't you.... Who are you?"

He sorta stumbled backwards and his face froze, as f he'd just realised something. Everybody else chuckled heartily, giggling and chattering away with joy – obviously not taking me seriously.

"Rose, what did you just say?" the man in the blue pinstripes asked again, eyes widened.

"Who is _Rose_? Cos you keep talking 'bout her but I don't know 'er. I seriously don't."

"What are you talking about? Rose, that's _you_, sweet' art," Jackie muttered, staggering forward and gripping me tightly by the shoulders, searching my eyes. "You do remember who you are, right? Rose, honey, please tell me this isn't some kind of joke!?"

And then it hit me. Maybe that was the real reason why they hovered outside my room and chatted constantly about _Rose_, maybe because Rose was actually me. But that could be true... Could it? It was impossible! I didn't know what had happened to me, however I'd at least remember my own name. And I just… knew it wasn't Rose.

"I just woke up in 'ere, an' I can't remember anythin'. But, all I know is is that I'm not _this_ Rose you're talkin' about. Cos if I am – then surely, I'd remember?" I mumbled hoarsely, coughing and shook my head slowly.

"You're not joking are you." the man in pinstripes said, more of a statement than a question. I shook my head.

"But, Rose…" Jackie said desperately and shook me roughly by the shoulders – sudden panic and hysteria in her eyes. "You remember me, don't you? I'm your own mother!"

I took a big (guilty) breath and sighed, biting my lip anxiously, "I'm sorry, but you're not my mother and I'm not your daughter. You've got the wrong person – sorry, I really am. I don't you and I don't know _any _of you people. Can someone just tell me why I'm 'ere? …" I paused, "_Who_ am I?"

And that's when all hell broke loose.

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**A/N:- Reviews, people?!? You'll get cookies! HEHE… **

**On another note – sorry if I got anybody OOC in this chappie, haven't watched Doctor Who in forever. I can't wait for the Doctor's awesome-appearing appearance in the Sarah-Jane Adventures! (Oo-er, alliteration!)**


	16. Run

**A/N:- ****CALL IN THE PAPARAZZI PEOPLE! **_**WeepingAngel123 finally updates after 5 and a half millenniums of thinking, writing, bus pass nibbling and pig chasing over fields of Lego. **_**Me -Away laughing on a VERY fast camel! **

**Sozzy people for the loooooooooooooooooong wait!**** I didn't mean for THIS chapter to be up so late, but Stalag14 conquered my mind for ages with exams, projects, homeworks and stuff, so I didn't really have the time! LOL! HAVE SOME FREE RAINBOWS TO MAKE UP FOR IT! Also *sheep baahs in the background*, I've been kinda STUCK for ideas! I know, 'tis amazing what Writer's Block can do to one's mind! =P**

**THANKS FOR ALL YOUR FABBITY FAB REVIEWS!**

**DISCLAIMER: Me don't own no-one from Doctors Who or Doctors Who a' all, except Ms Rooteer. Mind you, I nearly called her Ms. Root Beer… **

**READ ON EARTHLINGS!**

**=D =D =D =D =D**

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"_Gwen_…" the Doctor hissed quietly. "Can you…"

"Already done. Don't worry; I closed the window, before they saw it," Gwen whispered back, stepping forward.

"Ah. Cos you see, the thing is…"

"Who the hell is she?" Mickey wondered aloud

"Well, well, well: what _do_ we have here," the woman boomed, interrupting.

Her voice was deeply Estuarian and posh, as her words echoed across the large room's walls. She stood on the top of a set of stairs, her face stern and forbidding, as a dozen heavily armoured men clacked forward around her. Her hair was gathered into a neat and elaborate auburn bun at the top of her head, two shiny, black slides clipped her fringe tidily in place and she was clad in a smart, navy blue suit, white blouse, black tights and dark blue high heels. A pair of dark-rimmed, chunky glasses occupied a part of her face, and she adjusted the frames slightly.

"The Boss isn't going to be happy about this…" Her voice hardened. "Boys, ready to fire. Now, for you, who are you people? Who sent you?"

"Oh, you mean _us_?!" the Doctor gasped, feigning innocence.

"Who else would I be talking about? The Ghosts of Christmas Past? I don't think so," the woman snapped, her voice becoming clearer and clearer, more recognisable to the Doctor by the second.

"Nah, no need to worry 'bout us! We 're just stopping by, annual classified check up. You know, checking the odd file or too, make sure everything's in order…" the Doctor explained nonchalantly. "I'm John, John Smith and _these_…" He hand gestured the people behind him. "Are my colleagues. So, if you'd just tell your army

"I don't think so, _Mr Smith_. I find your statement very hard to believe. No personnel or Executive are alerted of these visits, because….?" The woman gestured something and the security guards clomped forward, cocking their guns.

"No one knows when we come, not even the _Big Cheese_ – just stopping off, cloak-and-dagger, you know the drill," the Doctor rambled, a large grin on his face despite the seriousness of the situation. He nodded and craned his head back round a bit. "Isn't that right, _colleagues_?"

Captain Jack, Gwen, Ianto, Mickey and Martha all starting murmuring "Yeah"s and "Yes"s, nodding and agreeing forcibly, as they each eyed the military guns and tazors and weapons the soldiers/security guards possessed.

"See?" the Time Lord said smugly, but he followed to scratch the nape of his neck absentmindedly. "Well, unless… unless, this is the wrong building. You know all those secret tunnels and narrow passageways. Hard to tell these days. So, just in case, we got the wrong building and all that… Where is this place exactly?"

"Torchwood Storage Facility 13.5, Cardiff."

"I told you so!" the Captain intercepted complacently. "I said it was Torchwood, but oh no, it's all technobabble and intrusions!"

"Captain, now is not the time," The Doctor reminded seriously.

"Ooh, who's the moody Time Lord," Jack sing-songed.

"Rude and not ginger," Martha quoted with a small giggle, remembering a past quotation from the Time Lord himself.

"There's no phone signal down here!" Ianto told them, rather randomly at that.

"Enough of the chatter!" the woman declared once more, clicking her heels together. "Mr Smith, if you are who you say you are, where are your credentials? Every good secretive 'filing inspector' must have an identification card I'm sure." She smirked. "Or are you just out from the trends these days?"

"Me, out of the trends? Never… Absolutely ridiculous!"

"Police Box?" He heard someone mutter behind me and there was suddenly snorts of laughter filled the air.

"There's nothing wrong with the TARDIS! And it isn't not my fault that the Chameleon Circuit's not working, well yes it is but… that is the point because---"

"_Ahem._"

"Where was I? Ah, yes, credentials!" the Doctor dug around frantically in his coat pockets, before finally pulling out a small pad of battered, brown leather.

He strode forward purposefully and ignoring the cocked guns in the air, reached the anonymous woman and flapped open the Psychic Paper. Hoping and wishing that, on Pete's world at least, Torchwood didn't provide psychic training; he winced and held it up to the woman's face.

"See, it says it all, right here!"

"That's strange…" the woman cocked her head to the side. "Because all I see is a blank piece of paper."

The Doctor shrugged and bounced back, snapping the Psychic Paper shut, "Ah, nice try. So what happens next? A nice tea party with the Boss perhaps? Or a day in jail cell? I'd personally prefer the first option, if I'm being picky, but--"

"Nice to meet you, 'John Smith'," she used her fingers to gesture her point. "I'm Ms Rooteer and my _lovely_ boys here shall be escorting you out of here. All resistance shall enforce violence and weapon usage, we shall not be held responsible for any deaths or injuries. Get 'em, boys."

"YES, MA'AM!" A dozen male voices cried in unison and marched forward, guns posed and high in the air.

"Cheerio." Ms Rooteer smiled, waved curtly at them with a dark glint in her piercing green eyes and strutted out the room, through a supposed opening above them.

They charged forward and the Doctor backed up – eyes widened, as the soldiers closed in on them.

"Hey, now lads, no need to be hasty. We don't mean any trouble. Look!" he gestured, with his eyes, frenetically at his raised arms. "We'll come with you – no resistance, I promise! Just let us walk off our own, look if anything happens, you heard your Boss, and you can shoot."

"No can do, mate." The soldier said plainly with a small shrug.

He gripped hold of the Doctor's arms and pinned them behind the Time Lord's back, arm tucked under one arm as he nudged him forwards, his strong arms still securing the Doctor.

"OW!" protested the Doctor and much to his satisfaction, the soldier loosened his grip. "Go easy on the rest of them…"

"DOCTOR!" Gwen yelled, over the raucous of their struggle against the soldiers. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," the Doctor sighed, secretly flashing her a wink. "Just do as they say. Don't resist them."

"And what's your name?" the Captain said cheekily, eyeing up the soldier who was having no trouble captivating him. Ianto shot Jack a worriedly envious look.

The Captain continued to flirt with the unresponsive captor, having seen the Doctor's furtive wink and knowing that the skinny excuse of a Time Lord had a plan up his sleeve. He just knew it. Besides, what bad did a little flirting ever do?

***^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^***

Soon enough, all of them were rounded up and forced to bunch up together, with two soldiers guarding them front, back and both sides. A soldier jabbed them from behind, pushing them forward and up the steps, into a gathering of bright, white light.

They were led forcefully through a narrow hallway. As the soldiers talked to each other in large, loud voices, the Doctor discreetly shuffled into the middle of them and explained his plan to them in a soft, hushed voice.

"I want you to cover your ears as soon as I say now. 'Now' not being now, but 'now' being after I've finished explaining, when to say 'now' because if you did cover your ears now then that would just be very--" He caught their looks and he paused, continuing. "Anyway, all of you just do as I say."

"What do we do after?"

"We'll discuss that, later, thank you Captain."

"You're just making this all up as you go along, aren't you?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to protest at Martha's choice of words, but faltered and settled for a: "Yep…" popping the 'p' as always.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ *^*^*

"NOW!" the Doctor yelled, producing the Sonic Screwdriver and pushing down on a button.

"What the hell's going on?" a soldier yelled, as all six of them cupped their hands over their ears.

The Doctor twiddled the setting and not a second later, an irate high-pitched buzzing filled the air and the frequency of the ear-splitting noise reverberated down and around the empty white corridors. The soldiers stumbled, as the frequency rippled the air around them and sent them tumbling backwards, struggling to shield their ears from the noise. They dropped their weapons and armour, releasing the six out of their grip.

"DOCTOR, WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" Captain Jack shouted over the high-pitched buzzing.

The Doctor squinted at the Captain through the waves of sound, just about registering his words. With an experienced flick, he switched the Sonic Screwdriver off with a polite bleep and took a glance at the ear-shielding soldiers splayed on the floor.

He laughed, "We RUN!"

And so: Martha, Mickey, Captain Jack, Ianto, Gwen and the skinny excuse of a Time Lord _ran_ for their lives once more.

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**A/N:- I am seriously falling behind all of my stories and I apologise for the shortness of this chapter! I think I'm gonna have to break down the lengths of each chapter, if I'm gonna get updates quicker. **

**HEEHAW!!! QUACK!!! Reviews are rubber ducks… *shakes the cage holding one Time Lord by the name of the Doctor suggestively* MWAHAHAHA!**

**=D =D =D =D =D **


	17. Denial

**A/N:-HERES THE NEXT CHAPTER FOR YA!! **

**Disclaimer; I don't own Doctor Who! THERE. DONE IT! **

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_Three hours later_

Everybody else had gone home – all confused, worried, and disappointed. (If they knew me, why didn't I know them?) So it was just me, Doctor Whatshisface, who flitted in and out the room occasionally, and the man-in-the-blue-pinstripes. According to _him_, my name was Rose Marion Tyler, born on the 27th of April 1987, Earth – where else would I be born? Mars?! The planet Zog, maybe? – in London.

The pretty blonde in her forties (my apparent 'mother') was sat outside, a steaming mug of tea in her hands, as she sat on one of the hospital's hostile, blue, plastic chairs. She had slapped the man-in-the-blue-pinstripes, before running off crying. I felt really sorry for her. But here comes the repetitive cliché: I can't remember her. I don't know her at all.

My mother was Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler married to Pete Tyler, who died when I was 6 months old, but was alive in 'this' universe and had a child called Tony with my 'mum'. Then apparently, I met this amazing man, an amazing man who was an alien and had two hearts, who whisked me away through time and space in his tiny Blue Box – which happened to be bigger on the inside. We saved planets and visited new worlds, we met new civilisations, stopped wars, brought peace but trouble followed us everywhere. More and more wild tales flooded out of this man's mouth by the moment, and thoughts whizzed around in my head madly.

It was all too much to take in – I started to get dizzy from the height of it all. I had the feeling that they were making things up by this point. Everything sounded so alien and surreal! If not, this was absolutely bizarre and unruly. It was unbelievable, and literally out of this world.

I still couldn't remember anything. Surprise, surprise.

"But, if all this is true, how comes I can't remember any of you?" I asked point-blankly. "Surely, I can't 'ave been 'ere that long."

"Rose, you've been in a coma for a year."

My jaw dropped open.

***^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**

"Is there a possibility that I have amnesia?" I asked suddenly, as the idea popped to my head. I didn't know where it came from – it just appeared out of nowhere.

It was almost as if something inside my head had prepared all the answers and questions for me, throwing them at me, before I could think about it. Like it didn't want me to think for myself.

"No, no, it's highly unlikely. Amnesia rarely affects the brain, when there hasn't been any damage or malevolent bang to the head as such. In a coma, that's even more unlikely, as signs of brain failure would've shown on your monitor earlier and we would've known, but…" The MAN suddenly froze and gaped at me.

His face erupted into a sudden, wide grin and he laughed, engulfing me in an unexpected hug. He released as soon as he engulfed me, muttering a 'sorry' in embarrassment, as I winced and groaned at the pain of his touch.

"Rose Tyler, you genius! whatever would I do without you?!"" he whooped with joy and grinned even wider. "Even when you're full of memory loss, and as confused as two short planks, you still manage to do it!"

I stared at him blankly.

"Do wha'?"

"Weeeeeeeeell, it all started up a war in my head when you started--"

***^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**

_Many minutes later_

The man, who somewhat or other 'forgot' to mention his name, perched on the edge of my bed and was gabbling even _more_ techno-babble at me. I didn't understand a word of it, but just nodded. He then proceeded to place both his hands at my temples. I didn't know who he was, yet I felt like I could trust him straight away.

"It's not going to hurt, is it?"

There it was again. The words had just jumped out of my mouth, before I had a chance to reflect what I was about to say.

I licked my lips nervously, as this stranger shuffled closer and placed two fingers at each temple gently.

"As I said, your mind is probably in a state of bitransitory hypovigilance, repercussional flux at the moment, after being so dormant and still for just about a year or so now. Your mind's been preserved, so your memory should be untouched but it seems that your knowledge of everything is still there – but the memories have disappeared. Where? And that's where I come in," he rambled onwards, full steam ahead, as I struggled to come to terms with his rich and strange words. He ripped his fingers from my head and shook his head, eyes screwed up in concentration.

"My fully Time Lord 'twin' may have the advantage of 13 regenerations, senses fifty times better than an average human's, a birespiratory system, two hearts and a whole lot of other cheats, but _I _still happened to have his brain and Time Lord essence. So, that means I can still look into your mind, without harming its surface and leaving perfectly safe."

He took a deep breath and stared deep into my hazel orbs, as if he were trying to find a hidden part of me tucked away inside. He obviously couldn't find it – 'cos this was me, here and now, nowhere else. I stared back into his chocolate-brown eyes, but he suddenly blinked and flinched away, breaking out of his distant reverie.

"So, it's completely _safe_ then, yeah?" I affirmed again.

"Yep, as safe as two houses! Three even!" he exclaimed with a grin, before he lowered his voice and explained everything to me. "I'm going to enter your mind and try and find out what's going on with you. If there's anything, you don't want me to see – which I doubt as much, seeing as you seem to be missing many memories on the first place – just imagine a door and shut it. You with me?"

"I think so."

"Good."

There was a small silence between us.

"Well, there we are then! Right then," he put on a laughable posh voice. "_Miss Tyler_, would you care to close your eyes?"

Heart thundering, despite the man (who still exemplified not introducing himself) and his cool, calm, reassuring words, I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I was still scared all silly though, oh come on, he could enter and read my _mind_!

That was an impossible practice in the first place, only found in the depths of red and yellow striped tents holding a gypsy and her crystal ball… But it was going to happen to me right this very second! It couldn't be real… More to the point, it couldn't be happening… No, it shouldn't be happening. But then he 'd started telling me about aliens and a Blue Box and other worlds, as I'd sat there listening to him earlier, and I felt like the truth was slipping from my fingers. He told tales of only more and more of impossible. Each and every word got swirled up with my curiosity and confusion, mashed up with what I thought was the truth and what was real and what was not…

If I wanted to know who I was, who _everyone_ were, what happened and all of the other millions of questions roaring around in my head – I'd have to trust this strange, talkative man and put up with. I wanted answers and this was the only way I'd get any.

The man in blue pinstripes, I was starting to get really annoyed as his non-introductory of name, finally pressed his fingers to my temples again and I felt a sort of coolness run through me. There was a brushing of sound and the whooshing of… power, as I felt a small, familiar male voice greet me _inside my head_ (!). I gave him permission and he delved deep into the… corridors of my head.

Minutes must've dragged on, as he called out my name and searched through the endless folds of my subconscious, his hunt clearly proven unsuccessful as he failed to find a trace of my memories. They were all gone – vanished his said.

"This can't be amnesia," he muttered after a while, shutting the door to my head and leaving a trail of left over energy in his place. He released his small grip on me and his eyes snapped open, large and unblinking. "It just can't! If it were, there'd be some sort of trace or residual memory or just _something_ in your head! But there's nothing. _Nothing at all_. Zip. Zilch. Nada." He blinked and looked at me intently, eyes still practically bulging out of their sockets. "What's two times ten?"

I frowned and answered.

"Twenty."

"What's the colour of my sleeve?"

"Blue with brown pinstripes."

"Capital of France?"

"Paris."

"How many letters in the alphabet?"

"26."

"Where is Madagascar?"

"Righ' next to Afri--" I stopped and my pitch tuned a notch higher. "Wait, what exactly is the point of this?"

"Exactly!"

"You wha'?"

"As I said, in your head - Zip. Zilch. Nada," He repeated and blathered on, as I followed his vibrant movements across the room. "Nothing inside that head of yours at all. Not even the slightest trace of memory, information or basic knowledge. Your feelings and thoughts are there alright, but there isn't _anything_ in there. Completely, utterly empty otherwise. But there you are yapping away and asking me all those questions, pressing all the right buttons, giving all the perfect answers!"

"What's so weird 'bout that?" I asked, completely confused and _bemused_. "That's normal. So isn't that a good thing?"

"But, Rose, Rose, Rose! That's exactly my point – you shouldn't be able to know all this. You shouldn't be able to be so fluent and full of information. Nothing should even be coming outta of that _lovely_ gob of yours! I meant to say – no offence?!"

"Why?"

"Can't you see… If your brain is empty, if your mind has nothing, where are you getting all this _knowledge_? Where is all this coming from? Tell me Rose, 'cos at the moment I am really very _very _baffled and that's a lot coming from a half-human Time Lord, _where_?"

_Time Lord_?! There he went again… Maybe that was his lingo for: 'I own a hell lot of clocks.'

But there I stood, looked at him, totally stunned. It was true, whatever I said, it felt as if it weren't coming from my own mouth. Like it was coming from _something_, someone else. Somewhere else inside my brain. I couldn't even understand it, so how was I s'posed to tell _him_ that. Instead, the feeling buzzed inside me and the words automatically, accidentally escaped my mouth.

"How am I s'posed to believe _you_?!" I snapped cruelly.

"Rose, you have got to--"

I put on an unusually high-pitched intonation.

"BELIEVE_ YOU,_ you mean?!" I hissed and my eyes traced his movements and reactions. "And why should I do that? What with you an' your _stupid_, little stories on unbelievable worlds, Time Lords and aliens. Why should I even _listen_ to you? I don't even KNOW you, for goodness sake. So, why should I trust you?"

"Calm down, Rose, I can help," he jutted his hands out desperately. "Just--"

"Every word comin' out from that talented gob of yours could be a LIE! That it's, ISN'T IT?! You're just force-feedin' me with lies and rubbish. My name probably isn't even 'Rose'!" I yelled. "Tellin' lies, to cover up what's really happenin' to me. I bet you're makin' it all up, just 'cos I'm innocent and can't remember anything! Everything's made up – you're TOYING WITH MY MIND!"

This wasn't supposed to be happening, but I couldn't help it. My head did it all for me and there wasn't time to think, no time to react, never any choice – never. It was all decided and thought out for me. All prepared. All done. All settled. Without me.

I snorted. "This is your idea of a joke, isn't it? You've made up the perfect lil life for me – a family, a life, parents, everythin'. Who am I REALLY? WHO ARE YOU? The man who won't even tell me his name. The man who thinks he's clever an' smart. "

"I'm the Doctor, well one version of him anyway," His eyes darkened as he took three firm steps towards me. I shrank back and shifted back against my pillow. "And I think, that this isn't you talking to me Rose… Is it?"

The first words today, that were truly and only of my own choice and came from my own thinking, came out of my mouth.

"No."

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**A/N:-OO-er what's happening to Rose I wonder? **

**TO FIND OUT - Stay tuned for more… You'll get **_**cookies**_**! *prompts off-set* Me is off to write up the next chapter of **_**Series 4 in Red, Yellow and Brown**_**, but hopefully **_**On The Rack Of Love**_** or **_**Five Times The Whoniverse Met Little Britain **_**too… I'll update next weekend! Or this week, if you're lucky! Lol! You can check those out *points to above story references with totem pole* in the meanwhile.**

**I'm starting to doubt this story now, 'cos I'm starting to think that I'm unintentionally kind-of copying the Donna-and-no-memories thing… I'm not too sure, but tell me what you think about this please!**

**Shake a leg, and throw a review at me! *manically intimidating cheesy grins***

**=D =D =D =D =D**


	18. Superfriend

**A/N:- HEY****A all you amazingly FABBITY FAB parsnips! *hands out moo-moo cows in gratitude&aprpeciation* THANKS FOR ALL YOU GROOVY GRAVY REVIEWS!! They're all muchio luuurved and stored up in my Big Lettuce Folder Of Reviews in my BRAIN! Aryl (an OC) plays a cameo role in this chapter, btw! **

***puts on cheesy merry-happy voice* You may remember her from previous chapters. **

**YAY! I actually updated on time PROPERLY! BE WARNED!!! And no it's not the EVIIIIIL SHEEP OF DOOOOOOM this time. Tis the fact that this is Un-Betaed. Like loads of mah previous chaps. Unfortunately… **

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who ain't mine. If it were… MWAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BOW DOWN TO VEGGIES! =P**

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"No on me, _no_. Not unless… you want me to call Rhys?" Gwen yelled back, her voice bouncing off the walls as they ran.

Jack groaned.

"Anything but the family, Gwen. You should know that better than anyone," the Captain grumbled, feigning disgust. "Remember _your_ wedding?"

"That wasn't my fault! It wasn't exactly the Baby Jesus; I was carrying, was it? I didn't even know I was 'pregnant', until eight hours before I was meant to be halfway down the bleedin' aisle!" Gwen protested. "How was I s'posed to know that aliens could disguise themselves as Rhys's mother? It was unexpected!"

"And when did this happen?" Martha put in.

"Time and a place!" the Doctor reminded quickly.

"They're gettin' closer!" Mickey warned.

"Kinda figured that, Mickey," the Doctor mumbled quickly.

Gwen switched back tot the topic. "Seeing as you're _our_ man in command, what conniving Plan B do you suggest, then?"

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again.

"I thought so," Gwen replied, with the slightest trace of a grin, caused by the amusing look of defeat on her Boss.

"We could always use that watch-gismo of yours to contact somebody," Ianto suggested suddenly.

The Doctor's eyes suddenly lit up brightly, and he abruptly jerked to a stop slap-bang in the middle of the corridor – instigating his accomplices to bump and crash into his back.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, with an air of triumph and muse. "That's it!"

"What's 'it'?" Martha said, peeling herself out of their suddenly too-close-for-comfort proximity.

"Captain!" the Doctor addressed the Captain, who appeared at his side, in an instant

"At you service, Doc,"

"Don't, just… don't," he shook his head disapprovingly and then spontaneously jumped. "Your watch!"

"What about it?"

"It's a Vortex Manipulator device!" Martha shouted in glee, knowledgeably.

The Captain's eyes sparked with the same knowledgeable glint, as the Time Lord's, and he beamed brightly.

"Watch?" the Doctor prompted, as the resounding thuds of the oncoming soldiers' footsteps grew ever closer, and ever louder.

Captain Jack snapped out of his reverie and proceeded to remove the broken Vortex Manipulator, that currently only served as a watch and communication device, and handed it over to the Doctor. A quick bleep and a few more buzzes later, the Sonic Screwdriver had done its magic and the newly fixed Vortex Manipulator was ready and working.

"What is that thing?" Mickey asked.

"That _thing_ happens to be _my _Vortex Manipulator, honourable courtesy of the Time Agency."

"What does it do exactly?" Gwen chimed in.

"What does it do; it's only the best, fully functional, 51st century modernised gadg--" Captain Jack started.

"It's basically a miniature Time Machine," Martha explained simply, with a roll of eyes.

"As in… TARDIS: Ferrari. Vortex Manipulator: plastic Space Hopper," the Doctor added smugly.

"Doctor, I don't think we have much time. Their footsteps are starting to remind me of Weevils," Ianto put in.

"Too right, too, Ianto."

"Where did you set the co-ordinates exactly?" Jack asked.

"All in good time, Captain! Right, all of you hold onto my arm!" the Doctor instructed them all quickly, fiddling with the many various buttons of the Vortex Manipulator. All, except Jack, looked at each other blankly, but shrugged and followed the Doctor's instructions without complaint. Just as the green, camouflage figures of the armoured soldiers' clomped into sight, the Doctor slammed down on the button and yelled, "HOLD ON TIGHT!"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&**

A bright, electric blue light rippled the atmosphere, as from out of nowhere in particular, six astounded figures were maliciously thrown down onto the rough, crunchy gravel.

"Not a steady landing," the Doctor frowned and shrugged his shoulders, un-cramping his muscles. "Could've been worse."

"My head's 'urting like hell," Mickey whinged, picking himself up off the floor.

"That kills," Gwen agreed, clutching her head, as she got up.

"Murder." Martha commented firmly, stretching her limbs, in a vain attempt to rid of the painful after-effects.

"Is this legal?" Ianto asked, shaking his head free of the pain.

"That's Time Travel without a capsule, for you," the Doctor remarked. He immediately leapt off the floor and chucked the Vortex Manipulator at Jack, who caught it deftly and wrapped it back around his wrist.

As soon as he'd finished attaching it, he stood up, stretched and sucked in his surroundings.

"Where is this place?" the Captain queried inquisitively, unable to recognise their location.

Mickey followed the Captain's gaze, suddenly clutched his head in excitement, his jaw dropping open in shock.

"I know where this is! This is so weird – I never thought I'd ever come 'ere again. This is--"

"_This_, Jack Harkness, is the Tyler Mansion," the Time Lord completed, eyes wistfully taking in their new environment and trying to work out whether this was real or not.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Door's locked!" Jack said, pushing hard on the grand, black front door. It didn't budge. "What idiot locks their door?"

Ianto coughed.

"What 'idiot' _doesn't_ lock their door?" Martha retorted, with a smug grin. "Unless you don't. _Jack_."

They all stared at the Captain disbelievingly, with raised eyebrows. Jack suddenly started humming, and rocked back and forth on his heels.

"What?! Can't an Immortal have some privacy these days? " he replied, loudly. Five pairs of bemused eyes stared back into his soft, blue orbs. He pouted. "I get… _lonely_. Sometimes. A grown man needs company! When good, ol' Yan's not around obviously. But anyway, as soon as you cronies leave for the domestic life, I'm all alone, with nothing to do. It's just me and my office. Oh, come on, some pity guys?" More bemused gazes. He sighed. "So, I find the keys to the fake Tourist Office door and…"

"Oh and what, you leave the door unlocked, just in case a pretty, sassy blonde comes running in?" Martha completed sceptically.

"Maybe," he squeaked.

They all burst out into peals of laughter. The Doctor in the meanwhile was finding the correct setting to open metal locks.

"Help?" Mickey enquired him nonchalantly, creeping up to the Doctor's side.

"No thank, Mickey. I'm perfectly fine, on my own, thanks. It's just this stupid lo— Ow! Ow! I said the Binary deadlock settings, not the heat compression wavelength!" he scolded his _in_sentient Screwdriver.

"You sure?"

"Yep, I told you already Mickey, It's just a matter of—Why do they need so many security locks?! Mickey, do you know why Jackie has fitted so many locks into this _one_ door? Not that I'm accusing Jackie of fitting these locks, but she is the type of person to— _Oh_."

_Click_. Mickey pulled himself away from the door and smiled conceitedly.

"How did you manage to do that, all on your own?"

"I didn't," the Doctor gazed at the young man inquisitively. Mickey frowned, and pointed inside. "I rung the doorbell and the maid answered."

"Why didn't I think of that?!" he demanded in a much higher pitch, than intended.

Martha and Gwen swatted him.

**&&&&&&&&&&&**

"JOHN! Finally, somebody can tell me what happened! Aryl's in the kitchen now! She popped round to drop off for paperwork, but I asked her to say. She's been worried sick," the young brunette woman's face crease dup with worry, and she clutched the Doctor's forearms tightly. "But is it true? Can she really not remember anything?"

The Doctor just stared at her. Confused. Perplexed. Bewildered. Nonplussed. All the words you could think of. Then it dawned on him. (Well, part of it, at least.) His clone. The other recipient of the Metacrisis.

Then suddenly, the woman, whom the Doctor had now recognised to be a maid (considering the standard black and white maid outfit), gaped and stared wide-eyed at Mickey.

**&&&&&&&&&&**

They'd entered an empty house, with only one shocked pretty, young maid called "Miriam", astounded at Mickey's sudden return. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to be 'back from America', for at least another ten years or so.

Of course, things weren't made any better that the Doctor was classed as "John Smith" to this woman. Probably referring his clone, he thought.

As soon as the young house cleaner had finished eyeing them suspiciously and interrogating the bubbling, overactive Time Lord, in an attempt to shut him up which had proven unsuccessful, as all questions had been answered flawlessly, she let them pass.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Well, you won't find any of them here," she elucidated, after what seemed like hours of pointless chatter and babble – walking slowly into the kitchen. "I'd have thought you'd have rushed to Miss Tyler's side."

"Excuse me?

"You won't find them here… because they're all at the hospital, aren't they. Of course, that bag of beans Tony is still at school and Mr. Tyler is probably hard at work – as usual. But you should find Mr. Smith and Mrs. Tyler there."

Miriam rinsed the damp cloth into the sink, washed it and squeezed some liquid soap onto it. Releasing a small sigh, Miriam began scrubbing the expensive, black marble of the kitchen's tabletops and explained.

"There you are, for anybody who doesn't know," Miriam looked promptly at Gwen, Martha and Ianto. "This is Aryl."

She was gesturing the Asian lady sat atop a small stool, in the corner of a kitchen, sipping a cup of steaming, hot tea. She was clearly in her mid-twenties and looked moderately tall, with tanned skin, deep brown eyes, and a mop of sleek, long, black hair, tied back into a long ponytail. 'Aryl' was dressed in a smart, black uniform – full equipped with flak jacket, rucksack and all the standard gismos. The Doctor could tell instantly that she worked for Torchwood, or something similar.

Her face was clearly a picture of worry and intensity. Judging by the redness of her face and all the other pessimistic signs, including the incoherent murmurs, something was definitely wrong.

"Mickey?" 'Aryl' gasped.

"Aryl." Mickey said, nodding. "Nice to see you again."

"I'M DREAMING!" she gasped. "But Rose said you'd 'popped off' to another Universe or somethin'!?"

"Rose wa'nt always right, was she?"

And the explaining process was recited all _over again_.

**&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Hospital, did you say?" Captain Jack intervened, nonplussed and eyebrows practically knitted together.

"Yes, that's what I said," Aryl recapped calmly, but suddenly her face was as white as a sheet and she flinched. "Oh, goodness! They must've forgotten to inform you!" she looked at the Doctor disapprovingly, a smile tingeing the corners of her lips. "Blimey, John, there somethin' wrong with you today? I'd have thought you'd be the first to tell!"

"Inform us wha'?" Mickey interrupted.

"Rose. Mickey, is there somethin' wrong with you too? You've known that there's been somethin' _wrong_ with her for ages now. Even before, you left. Mind you, you weren't in tip-top condition yourself, but I'm not gonna say anythin'…"

Mickey, by all means, ignored the latter and puffed up his chest worriedly, as he grimaced anxiously.

"It hasn't even been that long since I left. I knew! I knew summat would happen to Rose. What's happened to 'er? For flip's sake Aryl, jus' TELL ME!"

"Mickey," the Doctor muttered softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I checked the calendar as we went in."

"An'?"

"It's the 27th April," the Doctor paused. "2009. It's been a year, give or take a few months."

"You are jokin' righ'?" Mickey gasped, laughing lackadaisically.

The Doctor shook his head grimly. Ianto's face suddenly bore the resemblance of a goldfish.

"But, how does that work then, Doctor?" Gwen queried, stepping forward in her black, leather boots. "We open a window in 2008, and land up in bleedin' 2009."

"Could it be the Vortex Manipulator's fault?"

"No – I cheated. I checked the latest date on the folder cabinets, back in the parallel Torchwood, Cardiff, and it was 2009."

"Then, why didn't you tell us?" Martha said.

"It's difficult to explain, Gwen. You see, when Time Windows are opened, you have to be very precise on where you're trying to puncture a hole into," the Doctor enlightened. "Otherwise there'll be biotrigokinetical twofold data flux, in the atmosphere, causing disposition of an inaccurate landing. But, this was your first go, so I can't blame you…"

Aryl just stared at them and shook her head.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear a word of that, shall I," she sighed and took another long sip from her mug. "You, John, should've told 'im first. Not left me to pick up where Rose left off…" Aryl sighed again.

"Rose was in a coma for a year?" the Doctor repeated. "A _year_."

"That's right. Like you don't know, John. Marching in and out of this house, researching ways to save her, going to visit her at the hospital, doing the impossible," Aryl let out a small giggle. "You should hear what Rose used to say Jackie said 'bout you sometimes!"

"I can imagine…" the Doctor muttered, shivering in reminiscent of the classic Tyler slap. His face deadpanned, all of a sudden and his voice was low, serious and dark. "Right, time to jog my memory, now tell me Aryl – what happened to Rose?"

"This isn't funny, John," Aryl said seriously. "You _know_ what happened, and I know what happened. We both know. Don't make it any harder on me, and pretend you're some innocent bystander. 'Cos you're not. An' if I know what you're like, so I'm telling you know, this isn't funny."

"You don't understand! I'm not the same 'John' you're talking about. We may look the same, but we have, and we are, living completely different lives. I know this is hard to believe, but I do _not_ know what happened. None of us know."

"Oh you know alrigh, mate," Aryl laughed coldly. "You were there when her condition worsened, in the first place. You were with her on that mission she was attacked by some that murderer. You were there when she called you to help her. You were there when I screamed, and found her, in the restaurant bathroom, lying in her own pool of blood. You were at the hospital, practically every day and night, next to her. For goodness sake. You tell _ME_ what's happened to her, John Smith!" she raved, her face suddenly as red as a tomato and eyes threatening to spill with soft, salty tears.

"Sorry," she murmured bashfully, after a while – cheeks hot, red and flustered. "She's like my best friend, in Torchwood; she nabbed my attention when I first saw her. There was something different and we became friends instantly. Geez, this is starting to sound childish now…" she smiled good-naturedly. "I jus' feel sorry for Jackie and Pete and Tony and you. I feel sorry for Rose. She just snapped into a coma, like _that._ It was a huge shock to everyone. An' now, she can't even remember her own life!"

"I know, I know. And I'm sorry for whatever's happened. It's not your fault, Aryl," reassured the Doctor gently and a shadow loomed over his figure, as he leaned forward. "I know this is hard to believe, Aryl, but I am telling the truth. I'm not John Smith, I'm not the same human who turned up on this Universe with Rose, I'm not that man. He's my clone. I'm a Time Lord and my name is the Doctor, and I've come to help Rose."

"Seriously?" Aryl suddenly looked up and her eyes bulged.

"Yes," the Doctor stared deep into her eyes, to show him that he was telling the truth. "I need you to trust me, and I know this may be hard, but… I need you to tell me everything from start til finish. Everything that has happened to Rose and what's going on now. I'm as clueless as Mickey and everyone else here. Now tell me."

And the tale was told.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"What do you mean, Rose 'can't' remember?" Captain Jack asked, feet crunching as he strolled across the gravel along with the Doctor, Mickey, Ianto, Martha, and their current new addition – Aryl.

"It's best you see for yourself," Aryl said with a sigh. "You can borrow my car. I parked it just outside."

"Vortex Manipulator," the Doctor demanded suddenly, just before anyone else could speak. With a grunt and roll of eyes, Jack handed the Doctor his Vortex Manipulator. Again.

"I don't see why I can't just handle it," Jack complained.

"You'd probably use it to run off and create the next Casanova, knowing you," Martha stated in a matter-of-factly manner.

"Killjoy!" Jack smirked.

"What's that thing, then?" Aryl solicited, peering inquisitively at the watch-like device . "It looks a bit like Rose's body watch thing. Only weirder."

"This is a--" the Doctor stopped. "No time to explain – just hold on."

"You want me to what?"

"Hold on!"

"Hang on, you aren't makin' any sense, you aren't. What d'you mean--"

The Captain flashed a dazzling smile at Aryl, winked at her and looped his arm through hers.

"Just hold on to me, and don't let go. Trust me, you _don't _wanna let go…" Jack said.

"Next stop: London Hospital. Please hold on tight and enjoy the ride," the Doctor stated, grinning madly, as he pressed down on the correct button. "ALLONS-Y!"

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**A/N:-HEYYYYYYYYYYYA! Just warning you now: All This Trainer talk/And Talking About Trainers (depending on which side of this fabby site you're reading it from.) MAY not be updated on the Wednesday, 'cos I've got a funky school trippio going on that day and I won't be back until quite late. **

**Rainbow cookies and pickled radiators to all who REVIEW! That little button is lonely. Why don't you press it… Or else…*produces a kidnapped and gagged David Tennant* I shall ****NOT**** be responsible for my actions. Me is warning you now. *prepares sheeeeeeep of doom* *evilly content BAAAs in the background* Mwahahaha! I shall not be stopped now!**

**HEEHAW! **

**=D =D =D =D =D**

**PS:-RED BUS PASSES ARE **_**BOUDACIOUS!**_


	19. Picture This

**A/N:- Torchwood gone; David Tennant going; Russell T Davies retiring… *blows ****sombrely into trumpet* Tis all fading away… But Stephan Moffat's plot to start on a**_** CLEAN SLATE**_**, with no repercussions or appearances from the past, is slowly ****unravelling**** and DooooooMING mah life! S'not fair. Hmmm, perhaps more chapters to go than I first thought.**

**Anyway. THANKSIES VAIR VAIR MUCHLY FOR YOUR REVIEWS!! TIS ALL GROOVILY GRASS COMMENTS…**

**Disclaimer: What more can I say? No-one owns Torchwood anymore, 'cos there isn't one, and Doctor Who – HELLOOOOO! They'll be getting The VISIT from moi vair vair soonio! ****EHE**** HEHE!**

**=D =D =D**

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_3rd Person POV_

_The sky was a smooth, untouched blue, daubed with soft, cotton bud clouds and perfected by the blinding, yellow softball that played the sun. The grass swayed in the breeze and the smell of morning dew could still be smelt in the air, as the wind whistled and the birds hummed. The large building of Union Hospital loomed over__ the large back garden, the walls white-washed and speckled, the window frames glossy, bright red, and the door a fresh, azure blue. It was clearly the picture-perfect vista – fit for an art gallery. _

_But then… As if a child spilling water over a painting, the scenery began to falter. The bright greens, vibrant yellows, glossy reds, cotton whites, soft blues; they all rippled and suddenly merged together to form an unhealthy, fuzzy splodge of brown. For, the atmosphere began to ripple, wrinkle and shudder; softening the hard bricks of Time and Space, as the colours blended together and became spoilt… And __**slap-bang**__ in the middle of it all, the air was ripped in half and a large, black hole formed, spilling out six hunched figures. _

"_Third time today!" Martha groaned.__ "My head's killin' me."_

"_Not so bad after a while," Jack laughed, getting up and stretching his back. He shot her a wicked grin and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I could always, oh I don't know… kiss it better?!"_

"_Shut up."_

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"Are you planning on tell me what's happening to you?"

He gazed at me piercingly, as if trying to x-ray me.

I shook my head. What the hell? It felt_… wrong _just shaking my head. A throb pulsated at the back of my head – almost as if _someone_ banging against the walls of my mind... I shivered. Nah, that couldn't be right, either. Unless… Now _that_ would just be plain creepy.

"Do you _know_ what's going on?"

I shook my head. Another throb at the back of head. Stupid, sensitive brain.

He cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow, if I knew him any better – which I didn't; I would've interpreted his expression as… _cheeky_. "You going to talk to me at all? 'Cos, I'd have no problems talking to the wall but…"

I glared at him, but shook my head anyway.

There was a grinding at the back of my head. Breathing heavily - for no apparent reason, I closed my eyes, and clamped a hand over my mouth before another spontaneous word had the chance to elope my mouth. My mind jumped, and I almost said something, but I bit whatever it was back - gulping. Eurgh, that didn't feel so good. I sunk back into the pillow, and leaned back, sucking back the sudden feeling of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me.

As stupid as it sounded, I suddenly felt as if I could actually, I dunno, _control _what came out of my mouth. But every time I managed to fight back what I was saying… my brain sorta protested and tried to make me change my decision.

Blimey, this was strange. And very weird.

"Let me rephrase the question," the man-who-still-hadn't-introduced-himself-and-was-staring-at-me-like-some-sort-of-strange-test subject said, leaning back against a chest of drawers. Looking at him from a distance, he was skinny. Very, very skinny. He wasn't anorexic, was he? He had some great, and I mean _great_ hair, though. Wait, where did I get that from? "Is this _you_ talking? Rose Tyler talking?"

I tilted my head to one side, frowning and furrowing my brow. Hang on; was this one of those trick questions? Who was _me_?! Was he talking about me, me, or was he rattling on about "Rose Tyler", me? This was flipping confusing, alright. For someone who could rattle on at 100 miles per hour, and judging by the techno-babble, was a proper geek, he certainly wasn't specific or making any sense whatsoever. Rude, too.

_Rude and not ginger. _I practically jumped out of my skins. Who said that? It sounded like… Right, he's called Big Hair, from now on. Anyway, the voice sounded like Big hair. I stared at him in confusion, and looked at him impatiently, but he looked completely perplexed. Not him alright, but then, _who? _Great, now I was _imagining and hearing_ things. I'd look into that later, first I had a question to answer.

Blowing out hot breath, I pursed my lips and settled for a nod-of-the-head. (Cue the banging in my head.) It was the safest option to answer with. Cos, if I "said" no, then maybe Big Hair might suddenly launch onto me and attack me with his geeky powers, trying to cut me up and experiment on me. What?! Don't get me wrong, but Big Hair seemed that type of person. At least from what I'd judged so far. He wasn't doing to well on first impressions. Especially on the name front.

Anyway. Big Hair didn't seem very happy, or satisfied with my answer. Instead, he stared deep into my eyes for about two seconds, before he propped himself up off the drawers, and took long strides towards me. My eyes widened. OK. Not so good. Maybe he was going to use his geeky powers to attack me, strap me down, cut me up, and experiment on me anyway.

I seriously started to reckon I was going mad then, but screwed my eyes up tight anyway, and backed my, err, back up against the headboard and pillow. Two fingers were placed at either side of my temples, and I wrenched an eye open, squinting.

OK, so no attacks maybe, but it looked like Big Hair was going to do that "mind reading" thing again.

"I won't bite," Big Hair suddenly exclaimed, releasing his grip, and calmly putting his hands up in surrender. "I swear. You can check my dietary habits. You can even bite _me_ if you really want."

I smacked him, and big surprise, was accompanied by a sudden jolt at the back of my head. This was really starting to annoy me. Did I _seriously_ have a miniature, little person hiding in there or something? Just _what_ was it with me, and choosing what I wanted to do?

Soon enough, his hands were back at either sides of my head, and I felt the familiar buzz of his mind seeking entrance into mine. I did what I did before, and opened a door, preparing to mentally "open" it. But, as soon as I scarcely edged the door open, _SLAM_! The door was banged shut again. I tried again. _SLAM!_ Again. _SLAM!_

"_Rose, what's happening?" _he said into my mind.

"_I don't know," _I replied, ignoring his first word. _"It's not me. I'll try again." (_Hey, I could actually talk in my own mind without getting _disturbed, _by some blimming throb or jolt or something! That was a first._)_

Barely registering the thought, I quickly swung the door open and his mind flooded into mind before… _SLAM!_

"_OUCH!" _I heard him cry out. "_It's OK. I'm fine, I'm fine. Getting half of your mental, psychic projection trapped in a psychological door: not a nice feeling. Never try it. Don't worry, I'm out. Just the one question: was that you?" _

"_Me, what?"_

"_Splitting the atom. I mean, was that __**you**__who slammed the... the…"_

"_Door?"_

"_Yeah, that was it, thanks. Was it you who slammed the door on me?" _

"_No, it was like, __**something**__ else. A different force or summat. Not me."_

I couldn't understand what was happening! It worked before, but it was as if another… force or something was going against my wishes.

"_Right, you might not know it, but I know you feel it sometimes, Rose – there's some__**thing **__hiding in there. Deep in the depths of your mind – waiting, hiding."_

"_From who?"_

"_Me. It can smell me, probably; it knows I'm here. That's why it tried to lock me out and I need to know __**why**__. Because if I don't like it…Anyway. It's hidden so deep that even I can't find it anywhere, or smell even the __**slightest **__whiff of it. But, I'll tell you what I can do."_

"_What?"_

"_Track it."_

"_But, how? You just said you couldn't smell it or find it anywhere, so how can you trace it?"_

"_For it to have been able to manipulate your mind and have the pure genius to try and lock me out, it must've crawled out of its hidey-hole to come and do that. It must've drained a whole lot of its energy, so much, that it can't have remembered, or had the strength to hide its residual genetic energy footprints. Apologies for the invasion of privacy, but you have nothing for me to see or for you to hide anyway."_

"_Why, what are you going to do?"_

"_I'll have to trip into your __brainwaves, and use my super-sniffing skills to hunt down the residual energy and—AAAAAARGH!" _

"_What's wrong?!" _I yelled frantically.

"_This force. It's overtaking my br—AAARGH!"_

Oh no, oh no, oh no – this wasn't happening. I began to panic. I felt a venomous, painful sting at the back of my mind and something charged forward.

"_LEAVE HER ALONE, MAN!" _a feminine voice hissed, and in my head, I saw it. This… wolf. It stood proud and tall, on all four paws, teeth bared and ears pricked. It was bathed in a swirling, incandescent, golden light – pulsing with life, and full of such power. I could feel it reach out to me. _"You, John Smith, may think you are saving and protecting her, but you are not. You are damaging her mind. She is at peace. Do not let her suffer again. It is I who is protecting her, not you. She is safe; I do not lie. Now leave. I am warning you again. LEAVE ROSE TYLER ALONE! She is safe with me…I promise you."_

"_WHO __**ARE**__ YOU?"I screamed out to the wolf in the light._

"_I, my child, am your protector, your guide, your shield; you could call me the Bad W--"_

"_Bad WHAT!?" I cried out desperately._

"_I am the Bad Wo--"_

There was a cry of anguish, and I could clearly tell it was Big Hair's doing. There was a bolt of what seemed like golden-blue electricity, and it surged forward, pelting the wolf full in the stomach and sending it hurtling backwards. There was a cry of punctured pain, and I felt a guilty, almost _pitiful_ churn low in the pit of my stomach...

The pressure on my temples was released.

**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**

I gasped, my eyes instantly snapped open and I bolted right up, sweat was trickling down my head and my breath was ragged and uneven. And I had one _killer_ of a headache.

But the sight on the floor made my heart leap. Big Hair (or "John Smith" as that wolf thing had called him) was laid messily strewn on the smooth marble of the floor, writhing and riving and muttering furiously. Beads of sweat poured down his face, and he looked as if he were in pure _torture_. I didn't know what to do. My eyes swam around the room, and I couldn't think or know what to do. My body refused to respond to my attempted movements, and all they seemed to do was seize up and go to sleep.

I tried to reach for the big, red button that hung down my IV, but as soon as my fingertips reached them – the whole device cluttered to the floor, slipping behind the radiator. It was a very stupid place to put a radiator, especially because I couldn't get help.

Big Hair abruptly gasped, and sat right up, blinking madly. I froze on the spot, staring at him, as he propped himself up on the edge of my bed.

"I thought I'd got rid of it, back on the Game station. Well, at least I thought the proper Doctor, my twin, had gotten rid of it and taken it all out of you. But, obviously, we thought wrong," he babbled, hypothetically to me. "But you've never ceased to amaze me, 'cos it seems to be me that a little fragment of the Vortex is clinging onto life, slap-_bang_ in your brain! And it's got one heck of a power supply, judging by its--"

He suddenly groaned in brain, and his hands squeezed either side of his head – face contorted, body shivering. He was doing it again! Oh, help. Painstakingly, I crawled across the bed and clambered over to his side.

"That _thing_ in your head, the wolf; it fried my brain. Didn't want me to find it,"

"So? What does that mean? I don't know what to do. I don't know what you _mean_! Tell me what to do! What's wrong with you? I can help! Please, tell me," I begged, fighting against the _thing_ in my head, who was blatantly trying to make me say completely different words.

Big Hair simply looked up at me, with red, bloodshot eyes, and released another croaky gasp.

"He's here," he rasped.

I stared at him, in perplexity. But this time, the words _did_ just jump out of my mouth, "Who's here? Who's _he?_ The doctor?"

"Yes, the Doctor's here. He's brought Torchwood with him. They've come to find you. You have to go and find him."

"Who's Torchwood? Are they nurses? Doctors? Blacksmiths?!" I tried, in a vain attempt. The _thing_ in my head, as Big Hair so solely liked to call _it_, decided to jump out and in a voice that wasn't mine, I said, "_They've come_._ The Immortal and the Lord of Time have come. And they've brought company… _"

Suddenly, the blonde female, by the name of Jackie bounded into the room and shrieked.

"Oh my goodness! What's wrong with John? ROSE?" I gazed at her.

"Look after him," I said simply.

And I don't know _how_ I did it, but I leapt off my bed (somehow) and ran; ran out the door; ran down the corridor and just... _ran_. I didn't know why; I didn't know how, but I just _did. _Whether it was my own actions or not, my brain didn't seem to consider it. All that my mind seemed to be intent on was to run, and to find something_, someone_ that I didn't even know.

That's when I saw them. All six of them cascading down the corridor, eyes flicking from left to right. But the one at the front stood out; the one in the brown pinstripes and bearing scruffy, big, brown hair. He looked _exactly _like Big Hair… Only in brown instead of blue pinstripes. I prayed and hoped that I wasn't hallucinating.

Because one voice in my head seemed to tell me just the one thing. He knew me, and I knew him… As _the_ Doctor.

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**A/N:-**** Abrupt-ish ending! YAY! Another short chapter, SORRY! It wouldn't have worked otherwise. Series 4 In Red, Yellow, and Brown will probs be updated TOMORROW. Out almost the whole day, today… **

**Me luuurves reviews! Isn't that enough of a hint?! HEEHAW!**


	20. Vicarious

**A/N:-I am s****o chasing after my update deadlines! You parsnips ****should**** get the next chappie of this ****TOMORROW****, but I don't know as I seriously need to update All This Trainer Talk/And Talking About Trainers. Missed the deadlines four days ago… Hmm. **

**CRUD! I ****ALMOST**** forgot about our dear friendy Aryl, in the last chapter, so there's SEVEN of them – not six.**

**Disclaimer: The Echoey People listen to ALL our conversations!! I know their address, but I'm not going to tell you! Also, whenever you don't hear the echoes over your phones, tis because they're going to the toilet (and vair, vair constipated) or having a meal! I bet you didn't know **_**ALL**_** THAT? MWAHAHAHA! Oh, right, you AREN'T the Echoey People forum!? Damn, I shouldn't have told you this anyway. It was supposed to be vair HUSH-HUSH. I think, I'd better go now… ANYWAY, me no ownie Doctor Who. Me own CHEESE instead.**

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All seven of them stopped in the middle of the bleach white corridor. Well, to be more exact, Captain Jack charged up in front of them to make them all jerk to a halt. He seemed to have a suspicious glint in his eye, but the Doctor dismissed as a trick of the light

"Right, Doc, seeing as that skinny backside of yours isn't goin' to help us find Rosie," Captain Jack deduced, "me, Aryl, and Mickey'll take the left corridor. If that's OK with you, gorgeous?" the Captain winked at the young Asian woman.

Aryl giggled. "Wha'ever."

"Hey! Wha' about me?! Why aren't you asking _me_, if I wanna go? " Mickey protested.

"I'll ring Gwen's mobile, if we find her."

"Hey! But, Aryl!" Mickey jabbed an accusatory finger in her direction. "You said yerself, y9oua always visit Rose 'ere, so you should know where--"

But before Mickey could speak his mind further, Jack grabbed Mickey by the scruff of his neck and dragged him down the corridor.

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"Yes, I do, of course I know where Rose is," Aryl muttered in his ear, as they walked down the corridor.

"Hey, then why didn't you--"

"I know this hospital like the back of my hand," she continued. "And I know for a fact that Rose's room was right down that very corridor."

Mickey stared at her, jaw dropping open, and trying to scramble back up the corridor. "Let's turn back! We can tell 'em! C'mon then! What're we waitin' for?"

Captain Jack had only one thing to do, and he placed a finger over his lips, steering him back down the empty corridor again.

"Captain Flash, 'ave you lost it or something?!"

"I can guess…"

Mickey scowled.

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"You positive this is the right way?" Martha questioned, falling into step with the Time Lord in question, as they slowly made their way up the very same corridor.

"Yup!" he replied.

"So, we're _not_ just cascadin' round the hospital in circles, then?" Gwen chipped in.

"Don't mean to interrupt, but we _have_ been wandering these corridors for around an hour now," Ianto informed, as he checked his watch.

"We could always just ask the receptionist," suggested Gwen.

"Where's the fun in that?! " the Doctor exclaimed. "Besides, 'course I know where we're going. I'm a Time Lord, aren't I? And not to mention, but I am brilliant."

Martha and Gwen groaned simultaneously, while Ianto hid a smirk.

"What?!"

"Get over yourself, already," Martha said, with a roll of the eyes.

The Doctor pouted.

"Did you just _pout_?" Martha asked, grinning.

"I'll have you know, Martha Jones, that Time Lords do _not_ pout!" the Doctor reasoned, not much to any avail. Martha shared a sceptical look with Gwen and they both burst out laughing.

"Why are you laugh--"

Ianto suddenly furrowed his brow and interrupted, "Doctor?"

"Yep?"

"This Rose: what does she look like?"

The Doctor paused, swiftly wrapping himself up in his own thoughts, before he described her. "About five foot tall, blonde, brown eyes, prone to danger…" He added the latter, with a grin. "Why?"

"I think we just found 'er," Martha whispered, a tearful smile tipping the corners of her lips upwards.

And Martha was right.

The Doctor's trailed Martha's gaze, and there she stood, Rose Tyler, bare footed and clad in flimsy hospital-garments, frozen and rooted stiff to the spot. It was almost as if she'd gone into complete stationary, and petrified, for a moment – her eyes glowing a faint yellow. It didn't even look like she was breathing. But then her whole body relaxed, muscles flexing, and body moving slightly again.

The Doctor drunk in her appearance: she looked so different, and so weak. Rose's hair had long since lost its full blondeness, now bearing its natural, hazel brown that faded into a light blonde, as it flowed down to her mid back. She was a whole lot thinner, and paler than before – not at all the healthy and lively woman, she'd once looked like, and was before. Underneath her puffed, dark brown orbs, shadowed bright red blotches – as if she had been consumed by _too much _sleep. She still looked beautiful, she always did, always would – in his eyes, at the least. But she just didn't look right… He frowned.

But, it was only to be expected; at least from what Mickey had described. The ugly symptoms of the illness and allergy had started way back, but just _how_ bad had it got?

He wanted to run forward: run forward, engulf her in the biggest bear hug known to humanity, and tell her just how much he'd regretted his decision and missed her. But somewhere in his mind, his Time Lord consciousness told him otherwise: told him to wait, told him to realise, told him that something was incredibly wrong.

"_Rose_…" he whispered, the simple syllable rolling on his tongue like a magic spell.

He wore a large, dazzling grin, a bright light reaching his eyes and ears; he almost gave in to the cunning temptation. However, Rose stared at him vacantly, an unfathomable expression adorning her face. She tilted her head to the one, blinked twice, and frowned. He almost thought he saw a sneaky, golden light twinkle behind her eyes. The Doctor's smile faltered. This was not turning out to be a _Four Weddings And a Funeral_ reunion – at all.

"What's wrong?" Gwen inquired. "Aren't you goin' to say hello?"

Martha gently punched the Doctor's arm. "_You._ Yes, I'm talkin' to you mister. Rose Tyler, the girl you fell in love with, have been fretting o'er for _weeks_, the one person I once dared thought I'd have a chance against," she said, smiling wistfully.

If she still hadn't learned from her experience and was about two years younger, she would've been jealous and irritated at the blonde, but things had changed. She now understood that she would've never compared, or been looked at, the same way the Doctor did to Rose… and she accepted it. Martha had Tom now. Martha was truly happy and loved; she just wanted the Doctor to be, too.

"An' you're just goin' to _stand _here – _gawping_?" she finished. The Doctor looked at her with a serious air, and Martha clocked it, deadpanning straightaway. "There's something wrong, isn't there?"

The Doctor shut his eyes briefly, and nodded, saying, "I can feel it. There's something missing. Literally. It's like she's _not_ Rose… It's something else."

'_Hmm. Not what I was expecting. No happy reunion then,'_ the Doctor mused in his head. _'Ah well. You can't always get what you want, especially when you're facing an army of Daleks, or Sir Alan Sugar, for that matter. There's always a next time. For a happy reunion, I mean, not facing an army of Daleks, or Sir Alan Sugar. That would just be uncalled for, and a bit rude. And not to mention, totally irrelevant. Well. More of one than the other… Anyway! Now, where was I? Ah, yes, Rose, being not Rose.'_

But that was when it happened. Rose Tyler approached them, literally stumbling up the wide hallway.

"You're the twin he's talkin' about. He's been waiting for you," she stated with a blank look in her eyes, and Rose simply… walked away, not hesitating or looking back at all.

Martha, Gwen, and Ianto all turned to the Doctor: faces confused, nonplussed, and looking for assurance.

"That was odd," Ianto commented.

The Doctor's eyes drifted off into the horizon, for a moment, contemplating. _Twin?_ Could he be talking about the other him? Without warning, he jumped out of his reverie and looked at them enthusiastically, eyes wide, and as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"C'mon! I think the lady wants us to follow," the Doctor said, and swiftly trotted off after her, hands in pockets and eyes scrutinising the area.

Shrugging, and muttering something along the lines of "He's always like this", Martha jogged off after him, with Gwen and Ianto following closely behind.

Gwen slowed down, and lightly tugged at Ianto's smooth suit jacket. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"I know, I really should've worn blue today. The green doesn't compliment the colour of the walls," Ianto replied, with a sigh, readjusting his tie.

"Maybe not."

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"What's wrong with _her_? She just doesn't seem… Rose," Martha muttered to the Doctor, silently gesturing the Rose shuffling down the corridors. "I know I've only met 'er properly once, but this still doesn't add up. I'd've at least thought she'd be _pleased_ to see you, but just look at her Doctor!"

"We'll talk later, for now, let's just see where she's taking us!"

Martha growled incoherently. What was _wrong_ with him today?!

***^*^*^*^*^*^*^***

"But I wanna see 'er."

"You sound like a toddler, throwing a tantrum. 'cos you weren't allowed to buy the lego. How old are you Mickey?!" Aryl sighed, "She's one of my best friends at Torchwood, so don't think for a sec I don't wanna see 'er either, but I've spoken to Jack and he's right. I may not know this "Doctor" in brown pinstripes, but I know enough to know that Rose was deep in love with 'im. They need some breathing space to 'emselves, Mick. Leave them alone for a bit."

"Ianto, Gwen, and Martha included?" Mickey asked, suspiciously.

Aryl gulped, and sneaked a glance at Captain Jack, out of the corner of her eye, who was currently chattering away to someone, judging by what he was saying, called "Alice" over his mobile.

"Let's just say you were top priority."

***^*^*^*^*^*^*^***

"Oh my goodness!" Martha exclaimed with a loud gasp, cupping her mouth with her hands. "What's happened to 'im?"

Rose drifted into a corner of the room, waiting in the shadows – silent, watchful. The Doctor's attention was suddenly captured by the strikingly familiar figure, whose upper half of his body was laid, quite literally, strewn across a chest drawer, whilst his lower half littered the stainless, marble floor. He was quite noticeably unconscious.

The Doctor dropped to his side, and Martha plucked a stethoscope out of her pocket.

"You keep stethoscopes in your pocket?" the Doctor questioned, amused.

"I'm a doctor; it's a habit," Martha shrugged, kneeling by the blue pinstriped man's legs. "Now, help me roll him over."

"Martha, must warn you, try not to look shocked," the Doctor advised innocently, squinting.

Martha rolled her eyes. "I've been through scenarios worse than this. While I working in America, for a while, a man checked into hospital, bleeding, and carrying his _own_ arm in a plastic bag. Now, you gonna help me, or am I gonna have to do this all by myself?"

The Doctor helped Martha roll the unknown – to Martha at the least - figure over, so that he was lying face side up. The guilty Time Lord quickly hitched his breath, closed his eyes, and waited for the gasp of shock to come. You see, Martha was not exactly aware that the meta-crisis Doctor was still around, living, or in this case, living on another universe with Rose. He had just happened to miss that fact, whilst telling the tale in Torchwood.

Instead, his ears were welcomed by two swear words (courtesy of Gwen), a small gasp (Copyright: Martha), and a: "Is it just me, or does that man, on the floor, look uncannily familiar?" (trademark of one Ianto Jones).

The Doctor winced, as the two Torchwood officers came to join them. – Gwen frowning at the "hiding" Rose, in the corner. This was beyond her. Seriously.

"So when did this happen?" Martha said, as she positioned her stethoscope to the man's chest. "You didn't even tell me that he was with her! I mean, somethin' obviously happened to 'im… All I knew was that Rose was kept forever in this Universe, with some unnaturally deadly illness, but…"

"It wasn't important." Martha swore that the Doctor slipped the quiet Rose a glimpse.

She moved the stethoscope about a bit, before she came to her conclusion. "He's alive, but his pulse is about three times as fast as it should be. It shouldn't be possible. One heart..."

"Yep!"

"I thought that he was… Never mind. So, he's not Time Lord?"

"Part-Time Lord, part-human."

"Some sort of shock," Martha deduced and put a hand to the unconscious "other Doctor 's" head, before flinching. "His head's burnin' up. He's in some sort of seizure. He could go into cardiac arrest, if we don't find the cause. Unconscious or not." Martha turned to Ianto quickly. "Could you try and find a doctor around 'ere, for me please? I can't do this on my own. I need help."

"Yes, ma'am!" he said, and mock saluted her, before he ran out the room to complete the task.

Martha then had the Doctor and Gwen help her lift the unconscious man, up onto the empty bed. Vivid theories and ideas ran through her mind, but Martha wasn't sure. She had to be certain of what had happened, or it could be a life/death scenario.

She knew that it probably wasn't the _best_ thing to do, but Martha was a doctor and it was her duty to help. So, going against _most _of her plausible conscience, the girl craned her neck round and turned to face Rose.

"Um, what happened to him? This… other Doctor, I mean. Was it an overdose? Or food poisoning? Or…?"

Rose's eyes pierced Martha's, and Martha felt a chill run down her spine. The silence stood standing. The Doctor was right; this wasn't Rose, and she knew it.

Martha snapped. "Look, if you're just going to stand there staring at us, the least you could do is help us. What happened to him?!"

Still silence.

"Rose, we can't let him die," the Doctor told her, pleadingly.

Rose stared back, eyes cold, hard and... _glowing_? More silence. No response. Instead, she slid down the floor and sunk down onto the floor – her eyes still watching, observing, _spying_.

Planting a fairly convincing, but weak, smile in her direction, Gwen hoisted herself off the floor, and padded towards the blonde/brunette, sitting beside her.

"Sweet'art," Gwen started, beginning to feel a big stupid, but it was worth a try. "Could you just help us, an' tell us what's wrong with 'im? What happened? Anything? He's going to die if you don't help us."

Rose glowered back. The eyes that stared back into hers were dark and vacant; cold and unwelcoming; unfamiliar and alien. Gwen put her hands up in surrender, backing away. She too had faced the same feeling and reactions, from just looking at "Rose".

Martha took a deep breath. "Let her be. If she doesn't want to help, just let her be…" she made sure that Rose was still glaring, before she moved in between Gwen and the Doctor, whispering, "Doctor, you were right. It's not her. It's not Rose."

The blue-suited Doctor gasped, and suddenly shot bolt-right up, clutching hold of Gwen and Martha's jacket sleeves.

"_No, I am not," _stated Rose: her voice different. Her voice dark, low, echoing, and eerie, but still holding its original feminine undertone._ "I am the Bad Wolf, and I am her Protector_."

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**A/N:-****Soz for the even ****LONGER ****delay: my bruv's computer couldn't host binweevils for some rhuarbish reason, so he used my (**_**this**_**) computer for hours instead…**

**Hmmm. I'm not sure if I wrote Martha's character too well; I don't know why, but I just find it difficult to write her character! ****Ooh and I'm sorry if I'm contradicting Journey's End, or my previous chapters – I am really VAIR memory lost today. I didn't mean to make Mickey so moody either, but… ANYWAYS, onwards, upwards and to the moon! BTW:- The moon so **_**is**_ **made out of CHEESE****! I should know, the Echoey People told me! TIS VAIR,VAIR TRUE! Bit of backtracking in the next chappie. **

**Thanksies for the many vunderful, vunderful reviews I received for my last chappie!**

***bribes with hand-dryers and nachos and banana milkshakes* ****Reviews ****anyone?! **

_**If she's anti-terrorist, I would not mind being Uncle Terrorist**__**. **_**HA! Just loved that quote! But did YOU like PC Andy?!**


	21. Numb

**A/N:-Three cheeses and a sozzy, for the delay! Spent yesterday icing**_** The Apprentice Meets Doctor Who**_** (after several long millenniums), and putting in the finishing touches. **

**A****nd as for that pistachio who calls himself "Saturday"... Twas Lara's (mah bestie) last day out, before she moved up north - forever! *sobs***

**=D =D =D =D =D**

**ENJOY GOOD TURNIPS!**

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My body didn't know how to react and froze on the spot, eyes transfixed with the small scenario unfolding before me. They hadn't noticed me yet. The seven of them skidded to a halt in the middle of the corridor, inaudibly arguing and chatting away to each other. Finally, the beefy man in the blue military outfit, the black man with the determined features, and the Asian girl kitted out in black made a move and headed for, what I assumed, the corridor on their right.

Then again, I wasn't so sure about _where_ I was getting all this information and knowledge from, seeing as Big Hair had decided to claim my head "blank", "impossible" and "full of nothing". Stuff him. If I had so called "nothing" in my head, how was I thinking and knowing all of this stuff?! I suddenly remembered the purpose as to why I'd stumbled out of the warm folds of my hospital room, and weakly meandered into the coldness of the hospital corridors…

But then it happened. There was no way to describe it, as _his_ eyes found mine, and our gazes locked. I properly studied his features for the first time, and there was _no_ doubt about it. I wasn't hallucinating – as far as I knew. He was just standing there, looking exactly, _exactly _like Big Hair and wearing a stunned expression on his face. Even his hair was the same brown kerfuffle, and the only difference was the pinstripes. But, was that the only difference?

_Two hearts…_

The blazing spark of impossible knowledge caught me in unawares. A breath hitched in my throat, as the voice whispered daringly into my ear.

'_He has come. The One__ with the two hearts. The Lone Traveller. The Lord of Time. The One who is full of fire and ice. The __One__ who separated my being from you. The Oncoming Storm has arrived. And I shall protect.' _

Gasping, I felt my eyes glow with a golden light, as an uncomfortable tingling sensation spread throughout me. It flooded from my head right down to my toes, deluging into every nook and crevice of my body. I tried to twitch my fingers or move my head, but I was completely numb. Completely frozen. Completely vulnerable.

This wasn't me anymore.

I watched through my own eyes, as the fact was confirmed. It felt as if I was being compressed back into my own head, as something else took over me. The sentient being _in_ my head. I didn't even know what I was!

My head jerked up, and my fingers flexed, of their own accord. There was a sharp pain in my back, as my arm jolted up and my feet were tugged into action. Not a moment later, my legs were lifted and heaved forward. Each step forced and strenuous for me, but smooth and casual for anybody else to see.

It felt as if there were strings controlling my body movements; it felt as if _I_ was a marionette puppet, and someone was controlling my every action.

It felt as if I was one of those marionette puppets, with strings attached to me, and skilfully determined hands manoeuvring them to control my every action. I was the host; the lifeless rag doll; the helpless… victim.

Oh, crap… Maybe this was normal for "me"? Maybe, whoever I was – seeing as I didn't even _know_ my own self, was like this sometimes? The last acre of my conscience slapped some common sense into me: of course this wasn't blinking normal!

"You're the twin he's talkin' about. He's been waiting for you," 'I' said, as my head was pulled up to look into the chocolate brown eyes of Big Hair's twin. The words escaped my mouth _so_ swiftly, that I knew they weren't my words. Not even in the slightest possibility. Not this time.

I tried to open my mouth, in a vain attempt, to ask this oh-so familiar stranger for help, but there was a silent hiss in my head and all further attempts were stomped down upon.

***^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^***

I found "myself" leading the four of them back to the hospital room, Big Hair's twin and the young looking woman with skin like copper a couple of metres behind me, whilst the well-suited man and leather-clad woman strayed more metres to the back of them.

I tried to make myself stop, but even when I attempted the slightest paused, a acute kick in the back of my head made my legs jerk forward.

Finally, we arrived and Big Hair's body was still strewn across a chest of drawers. "Jackie" was nowhere in sight. Forcibly, I made my way into the corner of the room and slunk down the wall, into a hunched up sitting position. My eyes found themselves in a thick glare, and vacantly distant. I rocked back and forth uncannily, unsure what the "being" in my head was intending.

Minutes passed, as a series of events rolled like a film-strip in front of me, and yet, my eyes still managed to maintain its distant, steel-cold stare. But then the Welsh child with the sleek back hair and clothed in leather approached me. She kept asking and telling me things, but it all became a buzz in my ears and I was almost relieved that some_thing_ else was using me.

Something was spoken, that I couldn't hear, but someone else obviously did. Big Hair bolted straight up, from his previous unconsciousness and the mysterious entity inside me projected its voice out onto the surface.

"_No, I am not. I am the Bad Wolf, and I am her Protector_."

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**A/N:- PA****PERCLIPS ****ROCK!**

**Next chapter up ASAP. ****Wanted to get Rose's POV outta the way. Apologies for the short chapter. **


	22. Bulletproof

**A/N****:-Writer's block sucks. Tis either that, or I've taken a trip to 7 Lazy Boulevard, Lazyville, Lazychester, Lazyania. ****Never**** believe me when I say a "few" chapters. **

**MOOMOO**** COW!**

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Martha gripped the Other Doctor's arms firmly, temporarily shifting her concern to him. He sat up, wheezing and gasping for breath.

"I thought you were gonna die!" she shouted, not releasing his arm, even when he'd stopped hyperventilating. Martha calmed down, and just stared disbelievingly at the now conscious man in front of her. "I don't know _how_ you're even alive. Your whole body was on fire. You heart, it was beating faster than it--"

The Other Doctor cut her off, "Backfire of the mind's electromagnetic, mental wavelength, when charged by a telepathic transmits of a current of one hundred and fifty-seven point six-seven-five amperes, causing a temperamental break down in the brain. Sending a sudden reaction for a whole bodily shut-down of all functioning systems," a sudden shut-down of all bodily system." He paused, as he received odd glances. "Happens to the best of us."

Martha shook her head. "You are exactly like 'im. If you're like this now… Oh, I can't even begin to imagine what it'd be like to leave you two in a room full of machinery!"

All attention was suddenly redirected _back_ at Rose, for a moment, or at least… whatever it was that was inside her. As soon as the woman's eyes had diluted into a wispy gold, Gwen's hand had instinctively slithered down to the holster tucked into her belt, reaching for the slick, black weapon.

"You won't be needing that," a voice stated quietly. Gwen jumped, to find the blue-pinstriped Doctor looking at her. "She's not dangerous."

"But--"

The man just stared her, and succinctly raised an eyebrow. Gwen blushed, and removed her hand from her gun holster. "Thank you," the Other Doctor whispered.

"Sorry. Habit," she murmured and added, "Torchwood doesn't help."

"Torchwood and their guns," he muttered, almost tutting.

Ianto coughed quietly at them, sliding his eyes to the Doctor and golden-eyed Rose. All eyes were, soon enough, fixated on the two again.

"What do you mean you're the Bad Wolf?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together. Frowning in concern, the _original _Doctor had slowly risen to his feet, edging forward on each word that he spoke.

"_I am the Bad Wolf_," she repeated, in her echoing cool tone.

Her head was tilted uncannily to one side, and the (dare he say it) _creepy_ smile that tipped the corners of her mouth upwards sent a shiver down the Doctor's spine. But the Doctor couldn't intake her choice of words.

It _couldn't_ be true. He, himself, in his ninth incarnation had taken the Vortex out of her completely. That was why he regenerated. If the Vortex was taken out of Rose, then the Bad Wolf went with it. Unless… No. He dismissed the thought quickly. If there was anything at all that he'd had missed, the TARDIS would've told him – the Doctor was certain of it. His own ship wouldn't choose to ignore things, and not notify him about things as important as this. But, what if the TARDIS didn't know? What if the TARDIS couldn't detect anything? What if the TARDIS was oblivious to everything and--?

The Doctor sighed. More highly unreasonably irrational theories. But then, just who and _what_ was this being speaking to him? 'Cos judging by well… _everything_, this wasn't Rose, at least this wasn't Rose talking.

"Hate to break it to you, but you _can't_ be," the Doctor uttered matter-of-factly, digging his hands into his pockets. He looked questioningly at the hunched figure of Rose. "I took the Vortex out of you, out of _Rose_, on the Gamestation. I was still in my ninth incarnation, but that was why I regenerated into this body – not too bad if I say so myself. If, even the slightest bit of the Vortex is in Rose's head, don't you think I would've noticed? Or at least the TARDIS? I'll ask you again, who and _what_ are you? And what are you doing in Rose's body?"

"_I am the Bad Wolf_," she recurred, eyes positively glowing with light. The Doctor took a step closer and opened his mouth to speak, but the "Bad Wolf", though the Doctor very much doubted, silenced him with a gesture of hands. "_Yes, you are correct, as always Time Lord, you __**did**__ take the Vortex out of my Rose. I amt he Bad Wolf, and I am her Protector."_

The Other Doctor rolled his eyes irritably and wriggled off the bed, saying, "So you keep saying. Now, stop betting around the bush, Wolfie, and just get to the point!"

Seven, no eight, pairs of eyes gazed at him musingly. The brown pinstriped Doctor raised an eyebrow.

The blue suited Doctor spluttered out, "What? I can't help it, if I've still got an essence of Donna, in me," Some confused, some sceptical looks. "Two-way biological Metacrisis?" The room broke out into "oh"s and "of course"s. "As I was saying…"

"_You, Doctor, took the __**Vortex**__out of Rose. You, however, did not take the Bad Wolf." _The Doctor's jaw dropped open._ "The Bad Wolf is a separate being, from the Vortex. The two were only together by chance. Bad Wolf is a part of Rose Tyler's soul. She, __**I**__, remained dormant, until the time came again, when I was needed once more."_

This time, the original Doctor decided to speak out, "But, that doesn't make any sense! When Rose took in the power of the Vortex that gave her the power of the Bad Wolf. That's how she drove the TARDIS… and saved me."

"_You misunderstand, Lord of Time. Maybe you are not as wise as Legend says."_

"But—You-- If— I—" The Doctor searched his mind for the correct words, but when failed, changed the subject. "What do you mean, exactly: you were _needed_?"

"_The Tyler child had __fallen too deep into the folds of this Universe, and her body was too vulnerable. Her allergy to the Universe had worsened, as Time went by, and Death was ever nearer to her doorstep. One year ago, Death threatened to remove her from this world. The Child of the Wolf was at the end of her string; so many close calls had saved her before, but there was nothing and nobody else to catch her, if she fell anymore."_

"So you saved her?" Martha asked, softly.

The "Bad Wolf" shone and stared at Martha intently. _"Yes, child. I saved her - if not locked her in unconsciousness, where Death could not claim her. If I had not taken action, at the time of her fall in the bathroom, yes, Rose Tyler should be lying in her grave now and knocking her one-year anniversary."_

Gwen, Martha, and Ianto shivered, whilst the brown-pinstriped Doctor held a pained, forbidding expression on his face and the blue-pinstriped Doctor maintained a stern stare.

"Was that you too, then? Wiping her memory, when she woke up? No, that doesn't even describe it. Wiping her entire _mind_, until she should to be brain dead?"

"Wait a minute. Mind?" the Doctor queried, the Metacrisis. "I thought it was just her memory."

The Metacrisis Doctor kept a trained eye on the "Bad Wolf", but directed his words at the Doctor. "That's what I thought. At first. But then, I went into her mind. I thought I'd give it a go, and retrieve her. I could enter her mind, look in the right places, and bring back the memories. 'Cos face it; amnesia? Easy!"

"But, of course!" the Doctor cried, with a grin, and gleam in his eyes.

"It wasn't that easy. When I entered her mind, everything was fine, but I started searching," he explained.

"What did you find?"

A grim expression fell onto his face.

"Nothing."

The Doctor eyed him for a moment, in confusion.

"There was _literally_ nothing, in her mind. It was empty, empty as a shell. No knowledge at all, in head. I don't know how Rose did it. She should've been brain dead. Just dead," the Metacrisis Doctor continued. "But there she was; living, and talking, and walking, and moving. Doing all the things the impossible things, and confusing the living daylight out of me. It was impossible! How could somebody with a mind so empty, and lacking all knowledge--"

"But still know so much," the Doctor finished.

The Metacrisis Doctor followed on to elucidate the facts as he saw them, starting from the vision of a Wolf in Rose's mind to the cause for his temporary unconsciousness.

"…and _that_," the Doctor concluded, "brings it back to you." He turned his head to the still-as-ever, hunched figure of Rose Tyler, aka Bad Wolf, and captured her gaze. "Say I believe you. What's the excuse this time?"

"_The Bad Wolf does not lie. She only speaks the truth. She protects_." But the "Bad Wolf's" glare suddenly grew fierce, and passive, as she continued, "_One year I allowed the Tyler child to sleep. One year to protect her from the Universe."_

"You coulda just let her be," Gwen reasoned, voicing up for the first time. "Rose had to wake up sometime! And then, when she did, she would be flipping brilliant an' her memories would be fine."

_The Bad Wolf ignored her. "But one year, and I saw the family and friends and co-workers visit; come and go; pray for her health; beg her to wake up. The never-ending stream of emotions, and human sentiment…_ _She was alive, but sleeping, balancing between life and death. Yet, they were still not satisfied. They wanted her to be alive, and thus, Rose Tyler was alive, but they wanted more. What more could a being like me do? If I woke her up, her mind and body and soul would continue to deteriorate even more, driving her to her death anyway. But, if I kept her safe and sleeping, nobody would ever be at peace." _

Both Doctors suddenly felt empathy and understanding for this strange, mystical entity. They now understood why what was done, was done.

"So you wiped her mind clean, opting for what you thought was best," the Doctor said, after a small silence.

"The closest _you_ could get," the Metacrisis Doctor filled in.

"Which is absolutely _brilliant_ and ingenious of you!" the two Doctor yelled simultaneously, and excitedly. They stared at each other, baffled and stunned, while peels of giggles broke out momentarily, behind them.

"It was completely bullet-proof!" the Metacrisis Doctor exclaimed.

"We-ell… So you thought!" the Doctor inputted quickly, and scratched the infamous spot at the nape of his neck. "If it all didn't turn out so horribly wrong, and backfire on you, of course."

"_It __**had**__ to be a mind reset: wiping all memory and knowledge and decision," _the Bad Wolf argued. "_Or the effects this Universe would still continue to plague her, throughout the small remainder of her life, if I hadn't. But that would not do. To help her and make sure she was living the life that her family and friends wished for her to have, I had to take over her mind. Hidden in the deepest depths, so nobody could find me, and I could feed the Child of the Wolf all the information he needed. Through her mouth and mind, so the knowledge I had cleared would still be fed to her. Through me. She still bore her own free will to think, because it is implanted in every living organism, since birth. It cannot be taken away, or controlled. And I had it all under my control…"_

The Metacrisis Doctor suddenly grinned down at her. "Until I came along!"

The "Bad Wolf" glared up at him, with complete resent, and carried on explaining.

"_Yes,_" she hissed, "_until __**you**__ came along."_

She clarified why and how her plans had been destroyed, when the Metacrisis Doctor had bounded into Rose's mind, and planned to take away the protection the Bad Wolf had cast upon her. Luckily, no damage was done as _nothing_ could be found, however, despite this fact: the Bad Wolf had to defend its host and do its duty. It guarded and defended its "territory", by threatening and harming the Metacrisis Doctor – as a warning. She could not allow Rose to be tampered with, as the affects and repercussions were unknown, and could teeter dangerous.

The Bad Wolf had not meant to cause harm to the Metacrisis Doctor. So, guilty for her actions, unknown to Rose – urged the woman to find help. However, Rose had bumped into the Doctor and Torchwood. The Bad Wolf had cowered away, suddenly, and knew that her powers were not strong enough to prevent the Doctor. The Doctor's telepathy, and mind powers were ten times stronger than the Metacrisis Doctor's was, so the Wolf feared that Rose would be exposed. She delved into Rose's mind and body, completely taking over… to avoid and control the situation – keeping the Child of the Wolf safe.

" 'Cos, I hope you don't mind me saying… Miss, but I find it hard to ignore the fact that you have golden eyes, a strange voice, and call yourself the "Bad Wolf". But, from the descriptions I've been hearing, Rose has brown eyes, a normal voice, and calls herself "Rose Tyler". If _you've_ taken control of, ehm, Rose's body - where's Rose?" Ianto chipped in, curiously.

The Doctor beamed genuinely, gestured behind him. "Have I introduced you two yet? No? Right! This is Ianto! Ianto Jones! He's a very clever man and that was a _very clever_ question! Bad Wolf, where is Rose?" the Doctor said cheerily, in a light tone, but scarcely concealed underneath was a tone full of seriousness and darkness. He pressed a tight smile to the surface, and leaned forwards slightly. "I'm all ears! Weeeell, I was in my last incarnation, not so much know. More of the hair! Anyway! I was saying, where's Rose? 'Cos you know what, I am very, very keen to know what you have done with her!"

"_Rose Tyler is safe_," the "Bad Wolf" proclaimed coolly, and her glowing gold eyes suddenly widened. She smirked, and the original Doctor _almost_ swore he saw an essence of Rose peek through. "_But you are not."_

The Doctor frowned, and his face immediately fell. So much for the hope. But what did the "Bad Wolf" mean now? He looked at the entity in Rose's body, darkly. "What do you mean?" he asked, suspiciously and rather nervously.

"_Her_," the "Bad Wolf" replied bluntly, and a slim arm lifted up into the air to point to the direction of the door.

Both Doctors' turned around slowly, and the Metacrisis was the first to wince, whispering to the full Time Lord, "You're in trouble, now."

And indeed, he was.

"YOU!" she screeched, and the voice of Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler rang out loudly across the small room.

The Doctor swallowed a lump in his throat, and prepared for the wrath of the Oncoming Mum.

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**A/N:-**** Blub**_**de**_**blub! **


	23. Slipped Away

There is so much darkness.

But there is so much light.

I'm watching through my own eyes.

But I'm losing all my sight.

'Cos I'm sinking further and further.

Like a pebble in a pond.

Into the deepest of my psyche.

And maybe far beyond

Where light swathes and bathes me.

They're the remnants of my mind.

That have been locked away in secret.

To keep me safe, but blind.

Shooed away from truths.

In a hope that there may be.

A cure to my allergy of this world.

A place, where I'm not meant to be…

I move and speak and touch.

Though not my own accord.

For the Bad Wolf dwells and controls me.

The only hope, I can afford.

I still don't know what is happening.

I don't know how long I'll stay.

But I know there is one thing for certain.

The tempting of the memories aren't to stay away.


	24. Let Go

**A/N:- **** Mwahahahahahahahaha! Ze plan is unfolding, my pretties…**

**Disclaimer: Me no owns Doctor Who. If I DID, I would force a fashion sense into the 11****th**** Doctor's head. Have you SEEN his supposed new outfit? Though… I am plotting a schism (that's currently involving: a shoelace, two sugarcubes, and a titanium shark) to steal Karen Gillian/Amy Pond's Converses. **

**IS NOW AND EVER SHALL BE UNBETAED! I think… **

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"Mickey and Aryl are--" the Captain began, but stopped dead, when he saw the expression on Jackie's face.

"Hello, Jackie!" the Doctor said nervously, his voice an octave higher than usual. He grinned weakly, and rubbed the nape of his neck. "Long time no see."

"It's been a bleeding two an' a 'alf years!"

"Has it?" the Doctor said, feigning mock innocence, in an incredulously high-pitched voice. "I mean, I mean, it _has_?"

_THWACK!_

Jackie had marched across the room, and the palm of her hand had made a sharp, violent connection with the Doctor's right cheek. In plain English, she'd slapped him. In a very, _very_ vehement fashion.

"_Ow_!" the Doctor yelled, wincing in pain, as his cheek began to throb and sting painfully.

"_That_ was for leaving Rose, and breaking 'er heart!" she narrated, glaring at him darkly.

The Metacrisis Doctor chuckled. "You're not the one getting' slapped!" the Doctor whined.

Captain Jack sniggered, leaning in the doorway.

"Why'd you find her mother for?" the Doctor asked Jack, indignantly.

"She found _us_!" Jack protested.

"_Her mother_ is standing right 'ere!" Jackie retorted.

The Doctor's eyes widened, as Jackie raised her and he raised his hands up in surrender. "Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. I'm sure there's a much more logical way to--" the Doctor trailed off, drinking in Jackie's steely, cold glare.

Her voice softened, "You left 'er."

"I--"

"Can you jus' shu' up for one minute?"

The Doctor closed his mouth again.

"You left her," Jackie continued, "goodness knows how hard Rose worked to get back to you, and you just left her. Again."

"I thought Rose'd be happy," the Doctor said, truthfully. "It was for the best. I didn't know there was anything wrong with her. She didn't tell me! I didn't notice! Sure, she was thinner and older, but I just thought…"

"What?"

"_That she was happy_. _Moved on with her life._ _You didn't even ask._"

All heads turned around to Rose – well, at least Rose's body. The "Bad Wolf" had marvellously sat her way through the entire conversation, up until now, in complete silence. Rose's eyes still swelled with wispy, golden light, the Bad Wolf's voice was still rich and echoey.

Jackie paled, then screamed.

"What the hell 'ave you done to my daughter?!" she yelled at both Doctors furiously, before she kneeled down and looked into the Bad Wolf's/Rose's deep glowing gold eyes. "Rose, swee'art, is that you?" There wasn't a reply. "I know you can't remember me, but are you OK? Rose? Rose?"

"_I am the Bad Wolf_."

"What's goin' on?!" Jackie yelped, leaping back.

"_Ah._ About that. Jackie, well, you see--" the Doctor started.

_THWACK!_

"Twice! You hit me twice!" the Doctor wailed, pressing a palm to his aching, red cheek.

***^*^*^*^*^*^***

Seven minutes, an explanation, and a yelling later, the lot of them were as close as they could get to organised.

"What's happenin' to 'er? Is Rose gonna be alrigh'?"

"I don't know either, but the Doctor will figure something out. He always does." There was a small twinkle in Martha's eyes. "And he always will." She smiled warmly at Jackie.

"A nice chat and a cuppa," Gwen said, with a small grin, "that'll sort you out… err… Mrs. Tyler."

"'Mrs Tyler'?" Jackie tried out the words, but shook her head. "That makes me sound old. Call me Jackie."

Dripping with hysteria, worry, and fury, Jackie allowed Martha to sit her down at the horrid, orange plastic chairs. If not for her knowledge from travelling with the Doctor for so long, Martha wouldn't have been too nonchalant and calm about the glowing golden-eyed Rose. So forth, Martha began nattering soothingly to the worried mother about the most random and domestic of things, whilst Gwen roamed the corridors, with a handful of silver trinkets, on a hunt to find a good drinks vending machine, where she could purchase three hot polystyrene cups of tea.

The Metacrisis Doctor had willingly agreed to wander around the hospital, in order to look for and hunt down the promptly missing, and undoubtedly lost, Mickey and Aryl. Well, with the help of the original Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver tracking system, which he had oh-so brilliantly stolen, when the Other him happened _not_ to be looking.

Captain Jack had been promoted the job of guarding Rose's hospital room/door from any medical staff, cleaners, visitors, and oncoming mums, of the sort. He'd promised the Doctor he'd ward them off with his "charm and persuasion" skills. The Doctor had instructed him not to do something or other - that Jack had paid no attention to – it possibly had something to do with flirting, murmured something concerning the fact that he was "literally wrong", and the string bean in a suit had sauntered back off into Rose's room.

All of which, leaving the Doctor alone with Rose. Well, to be specific, alone with the entity that had decided to possess and control her body, but wasn't compressing Rose to death like Cassandra.

Shutting the door behind him, with a quiet click, the Doctor approached the glowing Rose – crouched quite contently in the corner, staring up at him with an intense, golden gaze. Her eyes traced the time Lord's movements, as he whipped off his long, tan coat and tossed it offhandedly onto the vacated bed. The intensity of her gaze didn't falter, even as the Doctor seemed to scrutinise her face, before he dropped to a cross-legged position on the marble, in front of her.

The Bad Wolf/Rose seemed to have read his mind and knew what was to come, for she mimicked his sitting position and locked her eyes with his. Sighing, she shut her (well, rather, Rose's) eyes, breathing in deeply. She exhaled, thins wisps of golden light escaping her closed eyelids and faintly parted lips.

The cogs in the Doctor's head begun to whir. "I wonder…" he whispered.

"_Dear Time Lord, you still have yet to learn, despite the many years you have lived. This is not telepathy."_

"Aww."

"_You wish to test the Bad Wolf? Very well, Doctor._"

Eyes studying hers, still testing, the Doctor just smirked and put an image in his head.

"_Bananas. A high source of potassium, but what good is a yellow fruit in war?" _the Bad Wolf spoke, eyes still closed.

The Doctor merely ignored this latter comment. "Impressive," he murmured, regarding her former.

The Time Lord flickered his eyes shut, and began to think out a string of numbers, pictures, words, songs, devices, people, etcetera, leaving no gap between each thought.

Yet the Bad Wolf/Rose remained serene, and casually declared each of his passing thoughts aloud, as if she was reading off a shopping list.

The Doctor raised a ever so _slightly _impressed eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah, you can stop now. I get the picture you can tap into other people's mind, and read them. Very impressive, indeed, and it takes a _lot_ to impress a Time Lord. So, how?" She didn't respond, and kept her eyes shut. The Doctor continued, "Suit yourself. But that means you've been reading _all_ of our minds all along. You've been inequitably looking and feeling into other people's minds, yet without them knowing. Sneaky, yes, but very, _very_ rude – if I do say so myself. _You_ shouldn't be doing that. It's an invasion of privacy."

"_And your knowledge of the Universe is not? The timelines of people's past, present, and future, that run through your head, are not invasions of their privacy, no?_"

"That's different. Time Lords are born with the knowledge. I can't help it. It's just _there_: stuck in my head like a great big blob of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey… _stuff_!" The Doctor frowned. "Ooh, that's not good, I've said that before. Remind me: I must think of something more original next time. Or more fun. How about jiggery pokery? Yeah, that has a nice ring to it: jiggery pokery! Nah, already used that term. Long ago… Perfectomundo? Weeelll – speaks for itself. I need something original, something creative, something like… ba--"

The Bad Wolf ignored the latter. "_That makes it no different."_

The Doctor _was _about to protest, when the sound of Jack arguing (rather more "flirting") with medical staff of some sort rang out from the other side of the door. The Doctor'd have to get a move on.

"Right. No time for dawdling."

"_The Doctor. Always changing the subject: always running from the truth."_

"Now to do what I came for: Rose," the Doctor stated, ignoring the Bad Wolf's words once again. He pressed two fingers of each of her temples gently, shutting his own eyes.

"_I suppose, there is no reason for resisting. For, you have already broken down few of my mental barriers, and the psyche of a Time Lord is of a stronger power than mine."_

The Doctor entered Rose's mind with a rush of energy, his own mental barrier rebounding back the powerful blast of hypokinetic, mental energy that came hurtling his way.

"You should've thought about that first," the Doctor said aloud, with a smug hum. "Can't get rid of me that easily."

"_So you say._"

But as the Doctor began to slither through Rose's mind, a frown of wonder, curiosity, and censure filled his face. Just as his clone had described: nothing. There was nothing in her brain. Not even the faintest, _simplest_ presence, essence or trace of Rose at all. Just the energy of the Bad Wolf thrumming through him, as he searched her mind. Where did she put her? 'Cos it must've been a darn good hiding place, seeing as he – the last of the Time Lords – couldn't even find a whiff of anything. It was like her brain was completely full… of _nothing_. Completely, utterly, totally nothing. Nothing. This was worse than he first thought.

But he pressed on, trawling through every nook and cranny of her mind, looking for something. Any something. The teeny tiniest something, in the entire Universe; the teeny tiniest something, in the entire Universe, which would fill him with a glimmer of hope. Hope that Rose was still buried in there: somewhere. There _had_ to be something!

"_Déjà vu," _the Bad Wolf hummed in his mind. _"The other you did that too. All those thoughts and emotions flooding through his head, like yours, but thicker and conspicuous. It still amazes me, how you two are so much of the same person – yet so different." _

"Well, as they say, great minds think alike!"

"_Indeed._"

The Doctor suddenly growled in frustration, as he found _it_ again, for what felt like the millionth time. He found nothing. 

"You can't just possess her body, and take control of it for Rose, forever, you know," the Doctor stated matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows, as he continued to trek through the empty tunnels of Rose's head. "It's doesn't work like that."

The Bad Wolf stared up at him, with her baleful yellow eyes, and boomed, "_But, I __**can **__make it work like that, oh Doctor. It keeps her safe. I am protecting her. I do what is just, I do what is right, I do what is to make her life happy."_

"Don't give me that. You _know_ what I mean. Yes, you're protecting her and keeping her safe, but what's the point? What's the point if, by keeping her safe, you're not allowing Rose to have freedom to live her own life?" he snapped. "Is _that _what you call happiness? Possessing and controlling her body, like a ventriloquist! Keeping Rose locked away and compressed, inside her own head, forever. Left to watch life pass her by, as you "look after" her body for her." His eyes softened. "You saw her mother. It's not right, is it. And you know it."

"_But if I let go now, yes Rose Tyler shall be safe from the fire and rage of this Universe… But, you will interfere! Do not deny it, I – the Bad Wolf - can see into your mind, Doctor, and the Bad Wolf does not lie. You know the knowledge of her brain's empty space, and you defy it! . You intend to invade her mind, to __**try **__bring her mind and memories back. It is not that simple, though, Doctor. Her mind is damaged and weak. I have kept her mind and memories away from her, because of it. Your attempts will be futile. However, if you do succeed Doctor, then her protection is lost. She automatically surrenders herself to this Universe; her brain falters, and she dies…" _An almost maniacal leer tinged her lips. "_Unless… that is your desire. Sending her to her death, in order for her to maintain, what you call, 'true happiness'! But if that is the case, and your wish, I shall willingly oblige!_" 

"That's not what I said!"

"_Then what do you suggest an entity like me, is to do? No, I correct myself. What is __**your **__plan, Doctor?"_

"I'll think of something."

"_Oh?_"

"Like I'll think of the question… Where. Is. She? Where did you hide Rose?" the Doctor asked sternly.

"_As the old human saying goes, that is for me to know and for you to find out._"

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**A/N:- TRANSFORMERS 2 WAS AMAZING and vair vair CheeseOnToastWorthy! Hehe! **

**I ****WAS**** intending on making this chappie longer, but two more updates to go? Maybe not… MORE UP SOONIO! **_**PISTACHIOS FOR ALL READERS&REVIEWERS! **_

**THANKSIES VERY CHEESE for all your GROOVY REVIEWS! Tis all muchily loved stuff! You know, I wouldn't mind anymore… Hint, hint. LOL!**

**=D =D =D =D =D**


	25. Remember

**A/N:-****YESHES!! 'Tis now workings!!!! I know 'tis been aaaaaages and aaaaaages and moo-moos since I last updated this! Am vair vair sozzy, browser was being a vair naughty&stubborn little boy and I managed to coax my Vati to borrow his Windows disc!!!! I ended up installing a new Windows (If only I'd done that earlier) and… **_**HEY PRESTO**_**! **

**Many thanksies for your cheesetastic reviews!!!**

**=D =D =D =D =D **

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As soon as the bright light that represented another mental psyche had entered _my_ mind, I was thrown backwards.

I was sent hurtling down a tunnel of darkness - zipping deeper and deeper into my own head, further and further way from reality - dissolving into a pit of nothingness. A place where nobody, and nothing, could find or touch me; a place where I was completely separated from what was going on beyond my own head; a place where it was claimed safe; a place where I was; a place where I was away from _everything_... and everyone.

Her name was the Bad Wolf - the creature inside me, possessing me, protecting me, _hiding_ me. I didn't know who or _what_ she was, but there was one thing I did know: she was the one who'd wiped my mind.

She'd let me know _that_ much. Now, I knew, she was the source of my knowledge. The reason why I could think and speak and know things, when I really, _really _shouldn't. I didn't know _why_ she wiped my mind, because she didn't tell me, didn't want me to know. It was a memory that I couldn't have.

Neither did I know why I was in hiding, why the Bad Wolf had taken over my body, and tucked me away in the deepest darkest corner of… a consciousness. Somewhere where even _I _had no idea of, and this was my own mind... Wasn't it?!

Sighing, I sat on the "floor". It was comfortable, white and soft - it felt like I was sitting on... clouds. It was indescribable really. I looked around the place I was in. To be honest, I didn't really know how to describe it.

The small area I was encased in was a blinding, bleach white, which steadily pulsated and throbbed with a glowing light. Thin golden strands of energy floated serenely around the room, whispering and calling out to me, but I stayed firm and resisted the temptations. For now. The whole area itself was encased in an invisible bubble, that rippled like a pebble in water, every time I stretched out a hand and touched it.

Strangely, I wasn't clothed in my standard, blue and white, hospital scrubs, simply dressed in blue denim jeans, scuffed white trainers and a maroon t-shirt, concealed by what was called a grey 'hoodie' – so my mind told me. I frowned: my hair. It wasn't long, brunette and tinged blonde at the tips – like it had been when I'd first woken up. Instead, my hair was a blaring, peroxide blonde and reached right down to my shoulder blades.

Tilting my head to one side, I found myself licking my lips in curiosity. It was sort of... sticky. I smeared a finger across my lips and pulled it away to reveal a thick, sticky, red substance. But it wasn't blood – oh, no. It was – a word blasted into my head – _make-up_. It was the same with the rest of my face. There was a black substance covering my eyelashes, so my eyelids were heavy and thick whenever I snapped them open and shut. My eyes also seemed to be outlined with something; vision blurring as I accidentally smudged the thick, powder-like substance and it entered my eyes. I blinked away the tears and explored the rest of my face. My cheeks were covered in a pale primrose coloured powder. Also, large, gold hoops dangled from tiny, allocated holes in my earlobes.

OK, this was weird.

"I'll ask you again," a determined, masculine voice suddenly exclaimed. His voice boomed loud and clear across the room, so full of fire and ice and rage. It reminded me a lot of Big Hair – I still hadn't discovered his real name! My ears pricked up and I jumped up, heart leaping at the sudden sound filling my eardrums. "Tell me, what've you done with Rose?! Show her to me!"

There was that name again. _Rose. _That was the name th_ey_ kept calling me; the name they insisted that was mine. I didn't even know my own name, myself, so if "Rose" was and_ is_ my name... Could it be, that this strange, yet painfully familiar man was, in actual fact, talking about me?

The wisps of bright yellow light whispered out to me, gliding closer to me; the slender, glowing tendrils drifted together to form the wispy shape of an arm, gold fingers flexing and reaching out to me. The act itself was almost angelic. My back leaned up against the transparent bubble, I hesitantly outstretched an arm towards the summoning arm – thinking it safe.

A gentle albeit small swarm of deep gold light surrounded my head. I spread my hand out flat, underneath it, and closed a loose fist over the energy. It felt warm and peacefully tingly against my own pale skin. There was a tranquil throbbing sensation in the back of my head; the light engulfed me.

_I was jogging after someone downstairs. A someone in a black leather jacket, with big, sticky-out ears, piercing blue eyes and this daft old face._

"_Hold on a minute! You can't just go swannin' off!" I protested, a long blonde wave of hair swishing behind me, as I followed him down the steps._

"_Y__es I can. Look. Here I am, swanning off. See ya!" he replied cheerily, waving me off with the plastic arm in his arm._

_**%%%%%**  
_

_I was walking along this field of tall grass, behind this carriage and horse, accompanied by these guards in formal uniforms. _

"_I want to 'ear her say 'I am not amused'," I said to the man next to me, grinning and putting on a posh, high-class accent for the latter part. I paused. "Bet you five quid I can get 'er to say it."_

"_Taking that bet would be an abuse of my time travelling privileges," he answered__ resolutely. He was tall and skinny, with the messiest, wildest hair known to mankind, clad in brown pinstripes, a long trench coat and scuffed Converses. _

"_Ten quid?" I tried. _

"_Done."_

_**%%%%%%**  
_

_This time I was dressed in a dark purple, leather jacket and trousers. I was flicking buttons on a panel__. _

"_I've been to too many Universes," I explained. "The wrong word in the wrong Universe can cause an entire causal nexus."_

"_She talks like that," a dark skinned woman, in an bottle green uniform said to __the redhead next to her. "A lot."_

**_%%%%%_**

_It wouldn't stop. __The blood continued dripping, in large, generous quantities, from my nose. Cupping my nose and wading through the small piles of red, damp, blemished toilet paper, that littered the floor, I stumbled towards another cubicle to grab some more clean loo roll. I practically screamed, as my fingers connected with hard plastic. None left. _

_The__ blood overflowed in my hands, oozing out down the sides of my hands and staining the shiny, white tiles with its profuse, sticky redness. I felt the heavily metallic taste of fresh, hot blood trickle through the small gap between my lips, stain my teeth, invade my mouth and gush down my raw, burning throat. _

_Grabbing hold of the __smooth, black marble with one already blood-slick hand, I staggered into an upright position and looked at my bloodied self in the mirror. My vision blurred, as the tears took over me. _

"What the hell…" I mumbled, disbelievingly, with a sharp intake of breath.

Automatically, my snapped my eyes open and I gasped. A small, barely noticeable niggling pained the back of my head, but I ignored it. Instead, my attention was fixated upon my closed fist; the light fluently was seeping out from the small fissures and crevices between my closed fingers. It floated back into the air, towards the ever beckoning, light-created arm, made of light – making it appear fuller. My legs were already shuffling towards it.

I was treading on dangerous ground, and I knew it. However, it was just so tempting and difficult to resist. It was too hard. It wouldn't hurt and I had to. I just had to.

I wanted to know more. Know who was the man with daft face, the piercing blue eyes and the big ears was; know truly who the tall, skinny man with the scruffy brown hair was; know why I knew them both; know why I was speaking to a redhead and female soldier; know why I was kitted out in purple leather; know why my former bleeding nose wouldn't stop; know why the walls and cubicle doors were all drenched with fresh blood, in that very ladies bathroom; know who was and is Rose Marion Tyler; know _who _I was, who I am and who I'm going to be. And the only way I was going to know _any_ of those things, was if I touched the light. I just knew it.

If I just walked over, reached an arm out and--

The rumbling laugh of the Bad Wolf made itself prominent, rippling through the air, the laugh: mocking, contemptuous, _flippant_. Her deep, loud laugh shocked me back into reality. Whatever was left of it, anyway.

"Oh, and why should I?"

Breathing heavily, I clenched my eyes tight and backed away from the light. I was sure I would've _actually_ walked over and reached out to the eerily graceful, golden arm of energy, if it weren't for that little interruption of the Bad Wolf.

"The time is not right. The time will only ever be right, when this universe chooses to accept her," the Bad Wolf replied, succinctly. "And, that time will be _never_."

"Oh, the time's always bin right! You've just been refusing to accept the fact that you're gonna have to let go, one of these days! Ah, silly old me, that's where I'm wrong. You _can't_ accept it! All this power, all this 'protecting, it's got to your head! I'm right, aren't I?" there was a pause, and a genuine guffaw overwhelmed the air. "Of course I am, I'm always right! I'm brilliant! When have I ever been wrong?! Actually, no, don't answer that. Really, don't."

"No, you are not. You do not understand. I have been chosen, ever since I claimed the Child of the Wolf to be my host that day on the Gamestation when she looked into the Vortex, to protect her. It is my duty. I only do what is... necessary."

"What's goin' on?" I yelled out, tentatively raising myself up off the "floor". "Hello? Hello?! Can you hear me? Anyone?" But, my voice just echoed out across the empty, white space and bounced back to me. Nobody could hear me.

"Is _this_ what you've been reduced to? An overprotective, obsessive entity driven by your own will and power to 'protect'?" It was that same male voice. He laughed wholly, nevertheless there was _no_ humour in his voice. Not one drop of it.

"_Ha!_" the man continued. "I bet you don't even know what you're doing! Just making it all up as you go along – a bit like me actually... What d'ya have to say about this theory of mine, then, eh? C'mon, Wolfie – if you don't mind me calling ya that! I'd _love_ to know what's going on inside that mind of yours!"

"Such fire and ice and rage, Time Lord. Maybe, yes I am making this all up, but maybe no, I am not. It is up to you, the Lord of Time, to decide. But, I speak the truth and advise you now, 'chatting' will not get you far in life…"

"Oh, really?!" His voice was laced with heavy sarcasm. "'Cos it seems to have worked for me, a lot, so far. Me and my big gob, yapping away like there's no tomorrow, a right ol' team we are – nobody could stop us." the man gabbled on. "You can ask anyone! On second thoughts, you can ask Rose! She would know, travelling with me for all that time, she knows me just about better than anyone – only met 'im once, but a very nice person Anyone. Anyway! Seeing as Rose is tucked away in there, your – no, _her_ – head, I don't suppose you could reach in and pull Rose out could ya? Just for one _teeny tiny_ second? No?"

As if to confirm this, she forced through a thick, "No."

"How did I know you'd say that? Because I'm brilliant, that's why!" he continued, voice full of casualness and complete with a happy-go-lucky tone. "Where was I? Oh, yes, me and my gob! You really, really shouldn't have brought that subject up. Now, you'll never be able to shut me up. Don't say I didn't warn ya – even though I didn't, but that's not the point. The point is… Anyway, I would never doubt myself for a second; me and my big gob. I mean, who else could I rely on e_very_ single time I need help? Nobody! Exactly! We're inseparable; me and my gob! Quite literally – unless someone's bent on their own nefarious purposes to chop off my mouth, then... Anyway! I think that's enough of my gob. Onto talking. Talking. Yes. I love talking, I do. Cos, ya see, when I talk, I tend to talk a lot - and I mean _a_ _lot_. And, what I mean by that is just talk a whole lot of random rubbish really. Any old thing could come spurting out of this mouth of mine really. I could talk for the whole Universe, if I wanted to. But the thing is, Wolfie, when I'm talking, I tend to be very, _very_ distracting to the person I'm talking to and when I'm being very, very distracting… I can do this!"

A loud, high-pitched buzzing noise occupied the air and it sent a tremor throughout my mind – taken over by some overprotective Bad Wolf thing or not, I could feel it.

"What did you do?!" the melodic voice of the Bad Wolf asked, the slightest smidgeon of worry tingeing her voice. As calmly as was possible, she shouted her question over the loud, juddering roar of the buzzing sound.

"Nothing much, no need to worry Wolfie, no harm done. You're as safe two houses. Just used the Sonic Screwdriver to confuse and lower the psychic barriers," the man explained simply. "Bit nosey, me. Like to have a poke around things - see what I can do. Break through a psychic barrier or two, lower the defences, see what's hidden inside. Like those brilliant, little Russian dolls you can get. I love 'em! Works of art they are…"

"_Come!_" came a string of voices. My ears and eyes drifted over to the source of the noise, away from the mad rambling of this man The weightless, golden arm glowed brighter, hovering placidly in the air, with a crooked, airborne finger beckoning me closer.

"_Come! Come!" _the mesh of soft voices chanted gently, from out the vines of light. "_Come! Come! Rose, come..._"

Oh what the heck, there was a great big mental war of the psychic-mind powers going on around me and nobody was paying any attention to me anyway. The mad man and the Bad Wolf were too busy battling out, for themselves. I didn't even know what was going on, or what they were battling _for. _They weren't exactly very clear about the subject, while talking. It was all "gob" this and "Time Lord" that. Nobody would know what I was doing.

I had to take a chance. Otherwise, I'd never know what those earlier memories meant. Maybe, this was the key to it all. The truth. My path to salvation. No, scrap that, that sounded really cheesy. Besides, the light and energy was just… there, right in front of me. It wasn't my fault; I wasn't the one who'd gone and idiotically plonked a temptation right in front of my face. What was I to do? Ignore it. I wasn't perfect, a saint, or the Dalai Llama. I was just a normal, London, human girl. I was?!

Only then, did I realise how close I was to the tendrils of light. The voices were hissing in my ear, the tiniest of memories tapping the surface of my head. (I wasn't entirely sure how that worked either, seeing as I was _inside_ my own head in the first place.) It was virtually impossible to back out of this one now; not when I was already half way there; I was _in_ the game.

The arm beckoned me closer, and the speckled, golden light encased me completely, following me, as I stepped ever closer to the grand big lump of gold light-energy. Memories, so I called them, almost instantaneously swept to the surface.

_Mum_. Dad. A death. First words. First steps. Photos. School. Father Christmas. A red bicycle. Bullies. Mickey. Friends. Parties. Sleepovers. Fashion. Secondary School. Make-up. Detentions. Mobiles. Puberty. Rain. Chewing gum. Perfume. Clubbing. Alcohol. Jimmy Stones. Debt. Hurt. Family. Friends. Henricks. Chips. Lottery tickets. Plastic_._ Shop window . _The Doctor._

Just tiny snippets of memories that vanished as soon as they'd come, head throbbing, wondering, and craving for _more_. There was no stopping me now. I wasn't turning back.

I shuffled closer to the central call centre of golden energy, more of the little, glowing particles surrounding me than ever before. With one deep breath, I stepped into it purposefully and was totally encased by the light.

Only then, did the scream of "NO - YOU MUST NOT!" reach my ears. But it was already too late.

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**A/N:-**** More updates (for this and other stories) vair soonio!**

**Luurved it? Laiiked it? Okayed it? Despised it SOOOOOOO much that you wanna pelt me with rhubarbs and pencil cases and Humanities teachers? Then… REVIEW!**

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	26. Through Those Hazel Eyes

**A/N:-A week and two days it's been! S****OOO SHOCKING, I know.**

**BAAH HUMBUG – just ONE week and FIVE days left 'til Stalag14 (school) again! Where's all the time gone?!**** Grrr! **

**Disclaimer: Doctor Who mine?! Sure, and so's ****Buckingham Palace.**

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"What the hell have you done?!" yelled the Doctor, frantically balling up fists of his thick, brown hair as he broke the connection to Rose's mind and dazedly backed away from her. There was a psychological war breaking out inside of her head, a power that had suddenly been unleashed for some reason or another, and even he – the high and mighty Time Lord – hadn't a clue as to _what_ had caused it. Not a sausage. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada. Nought. Nothing. Absolutely positively nothing at all. And _that_ annoyed him. A lot.

"Don't you mean _who_," the Bad Wolf said, her tone of voice quite blatantly stating it as a fact and not a question. Her tone and volume of voice remained calm and serene, impossibly unfazed by the matter at hand.

"_Oh_, not with the telepathy again. But, what d'you mean _who_? There can't be a--" The Doctor suddenly startled, jerking. "Ah. Ah. _Ah_. But that's just it; it's _you_, isn't it!" He pointed an accusatory finger at her, instinctively raking a hand through his hair, with eyes wide and full of pure curiosity. "You're the cause. But, why?! What's going on? Rose's mind was completely blank a moment ago – and I should know, I checked, _twice_, no, more than twice – but now, _now_ it's fizzing with life and there's a psychological war starting up in there! Something's been awakened in there, and I want to know what. It could be dangerous. And whatever you've done with, in there, _wherever_ you've hidden her, I want her safe." His eyes softened and his voice grew quieter. "She's just a human; not like you, a big-" He waved his hand up and down, gesturing her body- "powerful, gold… _thing_. Humans are weak, they don't have the mental and physical barriers you or I probably do; she might not be able to take it…"

The Bad Wolf chuckled, tendrils of pallid yellow light molecules filtering out through her hands and eyes, daintily hovering around in the air all around her. Rose's body seemed to come completely alight with the fuzzy, yellow molecules. The Doctor frowned. Now, _that_ definitely shouldn't be happening.

"It is she, not I."

"Wh— Wh— What d'you mean: it's _her_ and not you? Who's _she_, the cat's mother? You're not making any sense. C'mon, Wolfie, I need answers!"

"It is she, not I," she – the Bad Wolf - repeated. "It is she, not I."

"Who's she?"

"It is she, not I."

The Doctor groaned and sighed, rubbing the back of his eyelids jadedly. How come big, powerful, golden entities were so difficult to interpret these days? You just had to ask them and they'd answer you straightforwardly before, back in the days when he was still at the Academy. But now, it was all riddles this and challenges that. High and mighty Time Lord, though he was, he didn't walk around the place speaking in riddles and puzzles to his companions, whenever they asked him something. He just… babbled. What! It was a whole lot simpler and easier to understand.

"Doctor!" the American accented voice of Captain Jack Harkness hissed. But, before he knew it, a strong, military coat clad arm had unwillingly yanked him out of the room and into the corridor, slamming the door behind him. He really was quite obviously oblivious to everything except himself and his gun as a completely glowing-gold Rose was pretty hard to miss.

Pulling a stylish, black gun from his pocket – much to the disapproval of one Time Lord – the Captain nudged a string of bullets in-between his teeth. Gwen darted up the corridor to join them, a gun caught between he palms of her hands, the nozzle raised to the ceiling. Her eyes were swimming from left to right, apparently on the look out.

"Jack, you coming or wha'? We've locked Jackie in the ladies, and Martha's already gone down."

The Doctor stared at them both, as if to say, "Look, there's a big, powerful entity taking over Rose and making no sense whatsoever, right now, so it would help if you'd hurry up – especially since you're paying no attention to my 'I-sincerely-do-not-approve-guns look' ".

"We've got company," Jack explained, locking his gun into place. "Weevils. Downstairs. And there's _lots_ of them."

"_Lots_?" OK, she just couldn't let this one go. Gwen cocked up an eyebrow, snorting.

"That's what I said." The Captain shrugged.

"Jack, there are two Weevils. _Two_."

"It was for dramatic effect!"

"Admit it, Jack, you just wanted to sound important."

"Oh, come on, Gwen, I _always_ sound important."

"Give me a break."

The Doctor was looking at them, one eyebrow up, the other one down.

"Weevils downstairs," Jack breathed out.

Gwen grinned at the Doctor, with wide eyes. "But, the Weevils, they're _pink_! And, I mean, flamin' _neon pink_." And she thought she'd gotten use to Torchwood and its aliens! Gwen's expression deadpanned. "Sorry," she mumbled quickly.

"Just wondering, Jack…" the Doctor began, knitting his brows together. "Was there an actual reason why you dragged me out of that room? Or was it just a spur-of-the-moment thing?"

"The latter," Jack confirmed, nodding seriously, but he just about resisted the urge to grin by settling for tightly pursed lips, instead.

"Right. Yeah." The Doctor nodded, before negligently scratching the spot behind his ear. There was an awkward silence between the three of them. He lifted his eyebrows up, his head bobbing from side to side. "Two neon pink Weevils?" he prompted.

A few awkward mumblings, a loud bang from the ladies toilets and a "just scream and we'll coming a running" later, they'd abandoned him and rushed off to do their job.

"Oh, and Captain," the Doctor shouted down the corridor, but he were already too far away to hear. The Doctor sighed and murmured to himself the words that were meant for Jack; no, meant for Torchwood altogether. "Less of the guns…"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%****%%%****%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**  
**A/N:-** **OhMySmellySocks! The shortest ****proper**** chapter I have ever written in my life; 'tis heartbreaking really… *sobs* That's probably because it's ****probably**** a filler chap, depending how you look at it. Next chap up **_**el soonio**_** – tonight hopefully.**

**Ah. And song suggestions luurved, as this chap will remain Titleless until one of you splendicake parsnips *coughs* people names it!! Hehe.**

**=D =D =D =D =D**


	27. Walk Of Life

**A/N:-**** ALL MISTAKES MINE! **

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The ground rumbled and the room shook all around me as I delved deeper into the warm particles of light, never looking back. Even as the Bad Wolf tore down her own barriers that she'd created to lock me away, I stayed put.

I kept on walking, further and further, a gasp escaping my lips as memories old and new poured back into my head; it filled me with a new warmth, a new energy, a new volume to my life. Nevertheless, I knew that by doing this, I was also filling myself with a danger. For, as the _real_ me awakened, the danger did so too. I felt it, right at the back of my mind, slowly but surely throbbing to life.

There was a soft growling behind me, and I felt a furry paw latch onto the blue material of my jeans, trying to pull me backwards. For the first time, I looked back.

"You cannot do this, child," the Bad Wolf insisted, her glowing amber orbs staring deep into mine. "You _must not_ do this."

"The name's Rose," I replied snippily, a throbbing string of gold satiating me with another essence of my life: my personality, my characteristics, my attitude, my behaviour. It was as if I'd found a new fire within me. But this, _this_ was me. "And yeah actually, yeah I can. I'll do what I like, thank you very much. I've been cooped up in 'ere, too long. I don't know about you, but I want my life back."

"_Rose_," she continued, "you do not understand. This is dangerous."

"I know."

"Then why are you doin' this?"

"Because… I want to."

"You might die. You will suffer the consequences; the world outside you is not the world you belong. Your allergy to this universe will take its toll. The human body is frail and weak, and your body will falter, wither, _die_. Your body will not last." a

I paused, suddenly worried, afraid - the memoirs climbed up my childhood years and a new word entered my mind - _apprehensive_. I tried to make absorption of the light/memories go faster, quicker, so I could reach my near past, but it was impossible. I was barely half way through the tunnel; I had to go _deeper_.

"What d'you mean?"

"Those memories are yet to be recovered and awakened, my child. By then, it will be too late. I am only sent to protect and help you, so I must not tell. Come with me, and I shall tell you everything, my child. Come where it is safe. _Come_."

For that split second in time, my mind and body betrayed me, my hand stretching out towards the Wolf with my feet slowly following. Her voice was so… trusting. I couldn't help but let the works sink into my mind. Suddenly, I had the urge to stop what I was doing and back away from it all and go back to the bubble, back to the Bad Wolf, back to a life of… _enclosure_. I couldn't do that. _I wouldn't_. I stopped dead in my tracks.

"No way!" I laughed half-heartedly. I spun around again, enclosed by the walls of white and the tendrils of light, walking deeper into the tunnel of my mind. The further I went, the newer and fresher the memories. I gritted my teeth, hesitating in my steps forward. "An' I keep tellin' you, it's Rose…"

**-&-**

_Adrenaline, excitement, worry and fear rushed through me as __I stared up at a tall blonde woman; a tall blonde woman called Jackie, Jackie Tyler. My... mother. She had her hands on hips and her head was tilted at an angle. _

"_Rose Marion Tyler,__ where d'you think you're going at this time at night?!" she asked me straightforwardly._

"_Shareen said--"_

"_I__ don't care what Shareen said. It's ten o'clock at night and you're only nine years old!"_

"_But--"_

"_If Shareen told ya to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"_

"_No." Sadness, disappointment, __frustration, realisation sizzled through me._

"_What's she doin' up at this time anyways? I ought__ to have a word with her mother and--"_

_Tears pricked my eyes__. Warm, loving, comforting arms wrapped themselves around me._

"_Oh, I'm sorry sweet'art__, I didn't mean to yell a' you. S'just, if you 'ad gone out, without me knowin', 'ho knows what might've happened to ya. It's not safe, love."_

**-****&-**

"_Oi –__ you. Get back 'ere!"_

_It was a Friday, and Fridays meant __a thirty minute walk home. Fridays meant Shareen was at her dad's place. Fridays meant a lonely walk home. Fridays meant Dale, Isaac and Jacob finding a new victim. They'd had their pick of most of the class already, and now it was my turn._

_Worry__, fear, anxiety._

"_Are you deaf or somethin'?! I'm talkin' to you!" _

_Fretfulness and adrenaline pumping through me__, a small dosage of courage boosting me up. I slowly turned around. I was not afraid. I was not afraid. I was not afraid. __I could do this._

"_You talkin__' to me?" _

_As much courage and casualness that I could muster. Hope that my plan was foolproof, so they wouldn't see through my plan and see the fear, anxiety and worry rushing through me. __Hope that they wouldn't hear the hammering of my heart. _

_Three tall boys towering over me._

_The ringleader: Dale. __"'Oo else would I be talkin' to, Tyler girl?"_

_There were sniggered. _

_Thump. Thump. __Thump__. My heart beat even faster as the words toppled out of my mouth. "It's Rose," I said quietly. _

"_Wha' did ya say?"_

"_I said Rose, my name's Rose.__Rose__ Tyler."_

_I'd probably__ get lynched in class tomorrow, but at that exact moment in my life, __now_ _was all I was living for… _

_And so__, I ran._

**-&-**

_It was Year Six. __The school disco. Flashing, multi-coloured lights. A boy with spiky, brown hair, russet-coloured eyes and a bit of a lisp. A boy I'd never really bothered with before; never spoken to; never looked at twice; never really knew. _

"_I'm Max," he said. I knew his name alright, but I thought his politeness quite sweet._

_Confidence, __pride, airiness. "Rose Tyler."_

**-&-**

"…Rose Tyler. Rose Marion Tyler," I said smoothly.

Then, with confidence, familiarity and past-time experiences now running through my veins, I walked away from the Bad Wolf – her howling ringing in my ears, slowly disappearing like an echo behind me.

**-&-**

There were so many memories, experiences and recollections gushing like a windstorm into my head that I'd actually doubted that my head could fit so many things. But, as the memories flung themselves at me, the doubt grew smaller and smaller into a ball of nothing.

Flashbacks pelted me flat in the chest as I relived them, the most significant and niggling of the memories; the memories that I'd remember for as long as I'd live. The others – the less important and momentous of the memories, faded away into practically nothing, buried deep in the depths of my mind – the faintest outline just lingering in the corner of my mind to remember.

The knowledge of _who _I well and truly was became clearer, by the memory, and I felt myself grow stronger, older, better, wiser, more mature. Yet, there were memories that dampened down my self-esteem, making me feel immature and small.

Those were the memories of bullies, regretted dares, missed education, Jimmy Stones. My mum – the most amazing woman in the universe, who'd welcomed me back with open arms when I'd completely messed up my life and came back with an armful of debt to work off. My mum, the woman who'd taken me back as her daughter, forgave and still loved me, even when I was sure I didn't deserve it. Then there was Mickey; the boyfriend I'd dated, and then dumped for Jimmy Stones; the boyfriend who, like mum, forgave me for running off; the boyfriend who accepted me again and looked after me; the boyfriend who I wouldn't let go because I was selfish like that.

The string of memories weren't such a rush, after that. Things… settled down. There was a short holiday in Wales, but… nothing _happened_. It wasn't much after that: work, chips, mates, the telly. The same routine, over and over, every single day. For me, the universe didn't change. Not that I didn't love the life I was living, I was grateful for it, but I felt like there was so much more to the universe. There _had _to be more to it than living in a council estate in the middle of London, going to work, eating chips, chatting to mates. There had to.

And then the tunnel was bursting full of light and energy and power. That was the day my job went up in flames – literally; that was the day I met the most amazing man called the Doctor, the day my life changed forever. After that, the flashbacks were fast, furious and completely unavoidable. Memories, recollections, experiences, journeys sped towards me, filling me with life and hope and knowledge and change and just _everything. _This was what the universe had to offer, and I needn't not miss it for the world.

So many memories and events that I could barely stop to think. Love, life, happiness, past, present, future, new worlds, family, revolution, rescuing, peace, war, death, destruction, death, regret, jealousy, aliens, power, emptiness, loneliness, fire, change, epiphany, learning to love again, knowledge, running, idiots, adventures, bananas, sci-fi, friends, foes, rebounds, hugs, separation, fantasy, royalty, loyalty, truth, companions, spaceships, loss, comfort, betrayal?, hurt, hatred, learning, persuasion, hand holding, being stranded, see you again?, urgency, lost, devils, reunions, helping, adrenaline, adventure, the impossible, monsters, children, warmth, compassion, drawings, Clom, mums, anxiety, mystery, true happiness, more reunions, happy endings, flirting, laundry, ghosts, walls, determination, need, parting, heartbreak, mourning, goodbyes, grief, moving on, maturity, work, domestic, family, goals, friends, offices, symptoms, willpower, fortitude, pretence, courage, travelling, running, Earth, warning, saving, helping, finding, canons, old foes, togetherness, love, ecstasy, forever?, war, duplicates, beaches, truth, closure, abandoning, acceptance, sickness, secrets, allergies, hospitals, cures, boredom, dinner parties, pain, comas, hopelessness, ... the Bad Wolf, amnesia, darkness, discovery.

It was almost frightening how much my life changed in the past few years of my life, how much happened, how much potential and new experiences were crammed into that short space of time…

But now, there was no turning back, it was forwards and never backwards for me. Whether I wanted to or not. I'd made my decision and I hadn't a choice.

I knew who I was. There was no hiding from it.

And then, the light consumed me.

**-&-**

_Free._

That's what I felt, when the blinding white sheathed me. That's how it felt, I was duly, _finally_ taken out and away from the cage of my mind.

_Wholeness. _

That's what I saw, that's _all_ I saw, when the Bad Wolf and I switched back to our proper rightful places – she tucked away in the deepest corner of my mind, and me back safely in my body filled with my _own_ thoughts, feelings and memories.

_Acknowledgement._

That's what suddenly hit me. The memory, clearer and bolder than every other, mostly due to the experience itself being one of the most recent to me, jumped up at me unawares.

Me bleeding through mouth and nose.

Me unable to staunch the flow of blood.

Me getting weaker.

Me hitting the floor.

Me falling unconscious.

Me thinking that my appointment with the Grim Reaper had finally arrived …

I could still feel the blood seeping through the crack of my parted lips, the metallic tang of hot blood filling my mouth, the thick liquid forcing its way down my throat … _No_! Stop!

But it still felt so real. Wait a minute, did that mean … no … it can't be … but … could it be … was I _dead_?

No, hang on, there was just the one memory left to be uncovered.

"_Sorry, do I know you?"_

_-&-_

"_Rose, o' course you know me , I'm your __mother__!"_

"_Who's Rose?"_

_-&-_

"_Wha's wrong with me? I don't even know who I am!"_

_-&-_

"_How long?!"_

"_A year." _

On the one hand, I wasn't dead – which was a plus point. But, on the other hand – even the Bad Wolf had been courteous enough to allow me this tiny piece of information – I was still _supposed_ to be in a lifelong coma. If it weren't for _Her_ and her puppeteer-like antics, I would've never woken up in the first place. I would've been still in a deep sleep to this very moment. I was _lucky_.

So … if I went back now things would revert to how they should be. What was in store for me? A lifetime of sleep, where time would pass me by and I wouldn't know a thing, that's what.

I couldn't, I _wouldn't_ go back to a so-called "life" of safety and security – where not even a hair on my head would be harmed, but I'd stay tucked away in a everlasting slumber. If my travels with the Doctor had taught me anything, then, life was all about taking risks; jabbing at any and every opportunity that was hurled your way, making the most of what you had, _living_ your life the way _you_ wanted it.

So I had a choice: go back to a life of sleep and nothingness where I would never be harmed, or snatch this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, risk everything and try to avoid this coma induced future.

Well, I knew which option I was going for – and heck, it certainly wasn't the first one.

If it worked, I'd get to see mum and dad and John and Tony and all my friends again – if I had the chance to pick, the proper Doctor too, but as they say, _beggars can't be choosers_. But, if it didn't work … then, I guess, life just sucked and you couldn't always get what you want. Yeah, _that_, and I would sleep knowing that I'd, at least, _tried_.

_Darkness …_

That's what I was falling through. The darkness.

I went against the winds that whispered _coma_ in my ears, ignoring the enticing, soft calls that beckoned me towards a life of peaceful slumber. I toppled through the great, colourful, whirlwind patterns of my mind. Soon enough, I slipped into a tunnel of darkness that told me I was nearly _there, _told me that I was close, told me to be patient, told me there'd not be long till I escaped this feigned reality inside my head.

Then, a loud, persistent gushing started up in my ears. The gushing noise grew louder and _louder_ in volume. _Louder and louder! LOUDER, still. _It grew so loud and so noisy that I was sure that I'd go deaf from the sound itself.

I quickly clamped my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself for some sort of impact or climax or just _something_. All of a sudden, there was a loud sort of _popping_ noise. And then, just seconds later, the gushing noise stopped. The gushing noise literally just _stopped_, instantly evaporating into silence.

Had I made it? Had I not? Was I now back to my unconscious, comatose self? Was I just sleeping and about to wake up?

I opened my eyes to the unresponsive silence, determined to find the answer to all the questions clogging up my brain, only to find myself surrounded by, _in_ darkness. It was the never-ending, pure, pitch black darkness; the sort of darkness that dug deep into your soul, peeling away the layers and stripping you bare, until it felt as if there was something in the darkness that was out to get you; the sort of darkness that meant your heart started beating erratically. It was all around me, wrapping me up in a velvet cloak of black.

Where _was_ this place?

I spun my head around, feeling my hair billow out as I did so. _Ah._ And that was when I realised my _faux pas_. It wasn't because of the darkness that I couldn't see a thing - it was the other way around – it was because I _couldn't see_ a thing that there was darkness.

How did I know?

It was like when I was a kid in the "Juniors". We'd spend break and lunch times playing childish yet highly entertaining games, like "tag" and "hide and seek" and "Blind Man's Buff". That was what it was like: Blind Man's Buff.

Whenever I was chosen to be "on it", someone would wrap their scarf around my eyes so I couldn't see a thing. So then, giggling I'd go stumbling about, thrusting my arms out wildly whenever I heard another play speak or move, in order to try and catch one of them.

Sorry; back to the point. The situation _now_ felt like it did when blindfolded. You couldn't see a thing aside from the plain black darkness, but … whenever you moved; light seeped through your closed eyelids, so you could still technically "see" the blotches of patchy, yellow light.

I snapped my eyes open and close, but each time I was only to be greeted by the darkness and blotches of light every time I opened my eyes again. I was … _blind_.

Suddenly, my ears pricked up. My ears were met by the sound of buzzing. Familiar buzzing. _Very _familiar buzzing. … _Sonic Screwdriver_ buzzing …

"Right, and now for you." Oh gawd, and that voice. I knew that voice. It was the Doctor's voice. The _real_ Doctor's voice. I just knew it. And, ooh, his voice was coming from somewhere … in front of me.

I know what you're thinking, but I don't know really – the proper Doctor's voice just seems to sound so _different _from John's. So … _alien_. I just can't put my finger on it.

Scrap all that - what was the hell was the Doctor doing here in the first place?

OK, I was dreaming. Definitely. I had to be. It was confirmed. There was no way this could possibly be real – it was official – there was no other explanation for this either. If this wasn't a dream, I didn't know what it was. I'd just heard _the_ Sonic Screwdriver and _the_ Doctor, after all. How could _anything_ be _real_ after that?

So, now, the gist of it was: I was blind and dreaming. _Lovely._

Now I just needed to figure out why my legs had turned to jelly.

_The Doctor?_

And that's the two words that ran through my mind, as exhaustion took over me and my legs buckled under my weight. I collapsed to the floor.

"_Rose_!" the oh-so familiar voice of the Doctor exclaimed, catching my fall. "I've got you."

My legs were folded up beneath my thighs, my trainers digging uncomfortably into my bum. The Doctor's skinny yet surprisingly strong hand was wrapped securely around my waist, holding up my upper body, whilst another hand was cupping and supporting the back of my head. Mmm … that felt nice. This was starting to feel like that time when the Doctor had been shot by that Dalek, although we'd both swapped position-wise this time.

My imagination sure knew how to run away with itself.

Oh hell, who cared whether I was in a coma or a sleep? 'Cos I was having a blimming good dream, right now. Even if he _had_ abandoned me on a beach, some years back, with his human clone – who's made of pure win and still stuck with me despite my stubborn cold-heart, anyway. I was going to let that whole abandoning thing slide, for now – at least whilst I was dreaming.

However, if the Doctor _did_ ever happen to pop over for a visit to this Universe in real life – though it's highly impossible anyway – then I would probably knock him into his next regeneration before he even had the chance to say "Hello". Though mum would've _probably_ already beat me to it …

Anyhow, dream or no dream, coma or no coma, I decided to made the most of it – I'd wake up soon enough if this was a dream and I wasn't in a coma any more, but if I was still in a coma ... _well_, no complaints from me.

For now, at least, I was more than happy to put up with a dream where I had the Doctor with me – well, just bar the fact that I was blind.

"Hello," I whispered back finally.

**&&&&&&&&&&&****&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**A/N****:- Is Rose dreaming or this for real?! *dramatic musiquee for effect* Updates should be quicker from now on… **

**=D =D =D=D **


	28. Chapter 28

Version 2:

_Free._

That's what I felt, when the blinding white sheathed me. That's how it felt, I was duly, _finally_ taken out and away from the cage of my mind.

_Wholeness. _

That's what I saw, that's _all_ I saw, when the Bad Wolf and I switched back to our proper rightful places – she tucked away in the deepest corner of my mind, and me back safely in my body filled with my _own_ thoughts, feelings and memories.

_Acknowledgement._

That's what suddenly hit me. The memory, clearer and bolder than every other, mostly due to the experience itself being one of the most recent to me, jumped up at me unawares.

Me bleeding through mouth and nose.

Me unable to staunch the flow of blood.

Me getting weaker.

Me hitting the floor.

Me falling unconscious.

Me thinking that my appointment with the Grim Reaper had finally arrived …

I could still feel the blood seeping through the crack of my parted lips, the metallic tang of hot blood filling my mouth, the thick liquid forcing its way down my throat … _No_! Stop!

But it still felt so real. Wait a minute, did that mean … no … it can't be … but … could it be … was I _dead_?

No, hang on, there was just the one memory left to be uncovered.

"_Sorry, do I know you?"_

_-&-_

"_Rose, o' course you know me , I'm your __mother__!"_

"_Who's Rose?"_

_-&-_

"_Wha's wrong with me? I don't even know who I am!"_

_-&-_

"_How long?!"_

"_A year." _

On the one hand, I wasn't dead – which was a plus point. But, on the other hand – even the Bad Wolf had been courteous enough to allow me this tiny piece of information – I was still _supposed_ to be in a lifelong coma. If it weren't for _Her_ and her puppeteer-like antics, I would've never woken up in the first place. I would've been still in a deep sleep to this very moment. I was _lucky_.

So … if I went back now things would revert to how they should be. What was in store for me? A lifetime of sleep, where time would pass me by and I wouldn't know a thing, that's what.

I couldn't, I _wouldn't_ go back to a so-called "life" of safety and security – where not even a hair on my head would be harmed, but I'd stay tucked away in a everlasting slumber. If my travels with the Doctor had taught me anything, then, life was all about taking risks; jabbing at any and every opportunity that was hurled your way, making the most of what you had, _living_ your life the way _you_ wanted it.

So I had a choice: go back to a life of sleep and nothingness where I would never be harmed, or snatch this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, risk everything and try to avoid this coma induced future.

Well, I knew which option I was going for – and heck, it certainly wasn't the first one.

If it worked, I'd get to see mum and dad and John and Tony and all my friends again – if I had the chance to pick, the proper Doctor too, but as they say, _beggars can't be choosers_. But, if it didn't work … then, I guess, life just sucked and you couldn't always get what you want. Yeah, _that_, and I would sleep knowing that I'd, at least, _tried_.

_Darkness …_

That's what I was falling through. The darkness.

I went against the winds that whispered _coma_ in my ears, ignoring the enticing, soft calls that beckoned me towards a life of peaceful slumber. I toppled through the great, colourful, whirlwind patterns of my mind. Soon enough, I slipped into a tunnel of darkness that told me I was nearly _there, _told me that I was close, told me to be patient, told me there'd not be long till I escaped this feigned reality inside my head.

Then, a loud, persistent gushing started up in my ears. The gushing noise grew louder and _louder_ in volume. _Louder and louder! LOUDER, still. _It grew so loud and so noisy that I was sure that I'd go deaf from the sound itself.

I quickly clamped my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself for some sort of impact or climax or just _something_. All of a sudden, there was a loud sort of _popping_ noise. And then, just seconds later, the gushing noise stopped. The gushing noise literally just _stopped_, instantly evaporating into silence.

Had I made it? Had I not? Was I now back to my unconscious, comatose self? Was I just sleeping and about to wake up?

I opened my eyes to the unresponsive silence, determined to find the answer to all the questions clogging up my brain, only to find myself surrounded by, _in_ darkness. It was the never-ending, pure, pitch black darkness; the sort of darkness that dug deep into your soul, peeling away the layers and stripping you bare, until it felt as if there was something in the darkness that was out to get you; the sort of darkness that meant your heart started beating erratically. It was all around me, wrapping me up in a velvet cloak of black.

Where _was_ this place?

I spun my head around, feeling my hair billow out as I did so. _Ah._ And that was when I realised my _faux pas_. It wasn't because of the darkness that I couldn't see a thing - it was the other way around – it was because I _couldn't see_ a thing that there was darkness.

How did I know?

It was like when I was a kid in the "Juniors". We'd spend break and lunch times playing childish yet highly entertaining games, like "tag" and "hide and seek" and "Blind Man's Buff". That was what it was like: Blind Man's Buff.

Whenever I was chosen to be "on it", someone would wrap their scarf around my eyes so I couldn't see a thing. So then, giggling I'd go stumbling about, thrusting my arms out wildly whenever I heard another play speak or move, in order to try and catch one of them.

Sorry; back to the point. The situation _now_ felt like it did when blindfolded. You couldn't see a thing aside from the plain black darkness, but … whenever you moved; light seeped through your closed eyelids, so you could still technically "see" the blotches of patchy, yellow light.

I snapped my eyes open and close, but each time I was only to be greeted by the darkness and blotches of light every time I opened my eyes again. I was … _blind_.

Suddenly, my ears pricked up. My ears were met by the sound of buzzing. Familiar buzzing. _Very _familiar buzzing. … _Sonic Screwdriver_ buzzing …

"Right, and now for you." Oh gawd, and that voice. I knew that voice. It was the Doctor's voice. The _real_ Doctor's voice. I just knew it. And, ooh, his voice was coming from somewhere … in front of me.

I know what you're thinking, but I don't know really – the proper Doctor's voice just seems to sound so _different _from John's. So … _alien_. I just can't put my finger on it.

Scrap all that - what was the hell was the Doctor doing here in the first place?

OK, I was dreaming. Definitely. I had to be. It was confirmed. There was no way this could possibly be real – it was official – there was no other explanation for this either. If this wasn't a dream, I didn't know what it was. I'd just heard _the_ Sonic Screwdriver and _the_ Doctor, after all. How could _anything_ be _real_ after that?

So, now, the gist of it was: I was blind and dreaming. _Lovely._

Now I just needed to figure out why my legs had turned to jelly.

_The Doctor?_

And that's the two words that ran through my mind, as exhaustion took over me and my legs buckled under my weight. I collapsed to the floor.

"_Rose_!" the oh-so familiar voice of the Doctor exclaimed, catching my fall. "I've got you."

My legs were folded up beneath my thighs, my trainers digging uncomfortably into my bum. The Doctor's skinny yet surprisingly strong hand was wrapped securely around my waist, holding up my upper body, whilst another hand was cupping and supporting the back of my head. Mmm … that felt nice. This was starting to feel like that time when the Doctor had been shot by that Dalek, although we'd both swapped position-wise this time.

My imagination sure knew how to run away with itself.

Oh hell, who cared whether I was in a coma or a sleep? 'Cos I was having a blimming good dream, right now. Even if he _had_ abandoned me on a beach, some years back, with his human clone – who's made of pure win and still stuck with me despite my stubborn cold-heart, anyway. I was going to let that whole abandoning thing slide, for now – at least whilst I was dreaming.

However, if the Doctor _did_ ever happen to pop over for a visit to this Universe in real life – though it's highly impossible anyway – then I would probably knock him into his next regeneration before he even had the chance to say "Hello". Though mum would've _probably_ already beat me to it …

Anyhow, dream or no dream, coma or no coma, I decided to made the most of it – I'd wake up soon enough if this was a dream and I wasn't in a coma any more, but if I was still in a coma ... _well_, no complaints from me.

For now, at least, I was more than happy to put up with a dream where I had the Doctor with me – well, just bar the fact that I was blind.

"Hello," I whispered back finally.


	29. Almost Paradise

**A/N:-Okiiiiiie. This is vair awkward. I promised you QUICKER updates, but ended up posting thr- "_two_" weeks later. And is that a mob of flaming torches and purple rhubarbs I see in the distance? YES? Oh dear. Yeah, you see, I actually- *runs for life***

**Did I forget to mention that Derren Brown is alien?! ****HE HAS TO BE! **** I mean that whole advert he did was dangerous enough and he got through it all **_**ALIVE,**_** then there was the guessing of the lottery numbers AND THEN the whole **_**live**_**(!) stuck-in-your-seat thingamajig...**

**Disclaimer: Me ownie Doctor Who? Well, I must've been ****pretty**** drunk ****AND**** deluded when I let Journey's End go on the air... Either that or I must've had a **_**vair **_**massive argument with Catherine Tate, Billie Piper, David Tennant and the whole crew that I threw a CABOT CIRCUS SIZED moody-fit, angrily forced RTD to scribble down the script to JE and give everyone (especially Donna!!) such a crap ending … I mean they didn't even mention Mickey ONCE in CoE.**

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Chapter 29 – Almost Paradise

Gun raised to the air in well-tanned hands, Captain Jack backed himself up against the nearest boiler and scanned the area for any signs of the one scape Weevils who'd – in the spur of the moment – sneaked down into the basement. No signs of life yet.

Spotting the Doctor.5 on the other side of the room, Jack nodded at him. The Doctor (point 5) nodded back, hands dug into his pockets, moving along in a incredulously casual stroll and the slightest of manic grins breaking through the surface. Captain Jack knew that look; human Doctor or not, it was the same look he wore every time he had some madly "ingenious" plan up his sleeve.

Whilst he and Doctor.5 were on Weevil patrol down in the basement, with Ianto taking care of the ground floor – and the people quite literally trapped there, Gwen and Mickey had taken to patrolling the first floor trying to hunt down the second of the scape Weevils. They went equipped with two small but tough sacks – near enough the perfect fit for a Weevil's head - and just the _one_ tranquilliser gun with only enough sedatives for one shot. Meanwhile, Martha had been assigned to discreetly take care of the one Weevil mauled victim – luckily, the attack had been a discreet one where nobody was around . Ianto had been given the task of improvising and covering up the situation, by spitting out some excuse to the confused, worried, nervous patients, whilst Aryl was outside attempting to contact Torchwood and call a _Weevil Removal Van _down to the hospital.

Not that the situation hadn't already been dealt with. Mostly. It was just the patients that needed the convincing. You see, Doctor.5 had already did the honours of deadlocking all the doors leading _out_ of the hospital's ground floor with his Sonic _Pen_.

Apparently, he'd "gotten a bit bored" whilst sitting by a unconsciousness Rose's bedside one day and the Sonic Pen was born. He'd constructed out of a PVC – that had been sneakily extracted from a nearby remote control, a fountain pen – deftly plucked from the reception desk, some solder – the engineer wouldn't miss it, and a piece of string – well, half of one of his shoelaces to be exact.

…

"_Why didn't you mention you had one earlier?" Jack asked him. "It would've saved a hell lot o' time, Doc. You never even said!"_

"_You never asked!" the Doctor.5 answered simply. _

…

"Ianto," Jack said, pressing the tiny button on his Bluetooth earpiece, "how's the situation up there?"

Ianto had rounded up the remaining patients of the ground floor and lured them into the reception area, which they were all now locked in. For the time being.

"It's contained."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%**

…

_A little earlier_

"_What the hell was that orange thing?!" yelled a man. _

"_That__ was an early costume preparation for the Halloween party this year." Ianto explained. He added quickly, "The hospital likes to prepare … early."_

"_Halloween's six months away!" a young boy chipped in. _

"_OK, a __very__ early Halloween preparation then."_

**%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Emerging out of yet another empty and Weevil-free room, Mickey dug both his hands deep into his pockets and carried on down the corridor. He had the provided sack tucked loosely into his back pocket, for easy access, in case the said Weevil spontaneously happened to come charging out. Gwen had the other sack, but also – after a argumentative debate with Mickey concerning who should have it - had the tranquilliser.

Suddenly, he heard the harsh pitter-patter of hard leather against marble resonate behind him..He spun around on the balls of his feet, seeking out the owner of the footsteps. His dark hazel eyes were greeted by the sight of a blurred figure heading towards him, while his ears drank in each resounding patter of footsteps. The bright pink head of the loose Weevil stood out loud-and-clear against its bleak white background.

One more squint and it was confirmed: the pink-headed beast was coming – no, _hobbling_ - towards _him_. Because Mickey was quite completely sure that the Weevil's husky, carnivorous growls and display of dangerously sharp, yellow teeth wasn't a strange Weevil tradition of saying "I come in peace". In fact, he was certain of it.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Any sign of our beastly, pink-headed friend?" Jack asked, his American accent floating into Gwen's ear via the earpiece.

"Nope," Gwen replied, inching down the corridor. Reaching yet another door, she promptly hurled it open with one swift kick. However, finding nothing but an empty, unmade bed, a small closet, a bedside table and two plastic chairs inside the room, she moved onto the next. "Not even blinkin' trace of Mr. Ugly anywhere."

"Yet," Jack corrected.

"Yet," she repeated. "Nothing from Mickey, either."

Jack broke the connection, and the air was basked in dead silence once more .

_CRASH! _

Abruptly, the noisy clatters and bangs of fallen objects hitting marble invaded the air space, the raucous echoing in great thunders down the corridor.

"What the hell?" Gwen muttered, and quickly made her way down the current corridor – skidding sharply into the first one on her right – in an attempt to track down the source of the sudden commotion.

She deeply suspected that the culprit of the commotion was - in fact - one Mickey Smith, but then again there _was_ a pink-headed Weevil on the loose, after all …

**%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"There we are!" the Doctor exclaimed cheerily, pulling the flimsy blue sheets over Rose, as he perched on the edge of the hospital bed. He bounced up and down a little, as if to test how springy and comfortable the mattress was – which he was – but he was more nervous than anything. Eyes still closed, Rose giggled – the laugh being, to the Doctor at least, the most beautiful and attractive sound in the Universe.

He grimaced at how corny that had just sounded. He really needed more practice at this, or all of his speech would soon end up in danger of sounding like something out of those cheap Earth romance movies ... He shivered. He most certainly couldn't let that happen.

Oh yes, back to reality, where was he again? Ah, yes, that was it.

"_Oh_, c'mere, you."

Without a moment's hesitation, the Doctor reached forward and wrenched Rose into a bone-crushing embrace. Rigid and unresponsive with what could only be described as surprise, Rose took a moment to assess the situation and – soon enough – responded to the hug with much enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his back – not as easy as it sounded when in her blinded condition, enjoying the comforting warmth of his body. She really did have her imagination to thank on this part; this felt so _real_. She wished it was.

Rose gripped him tighter, resting her head on what she could only assume was the Doctor's shoulder. It wasn't too easy trying to see when she – quite clearly – couldn't. She opened her eyes, but all she was greeted by was darkness. All Rose wanted was to see his face, just _once_, but this stupid, stupid dream wouldn't even let her have that It wasn't fair. She crushed her eyelids together tightly. Trying to _think_ and wish her eyesight back, even if it was just for a moment, but - just as dreams didn't usually go the way you wanted it to – she released her eyelids and pried her eyes open hopefully. _Nothing_.

It didn't work. She breathed in deeply, swallowing back a large lump in her throat, holding back a sob, restraining the tears.

"I missed you," she heard the Doctor mutter.

"Me too," she agreed, squeezing him even tighter in their embrace and burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Just wish this was real," she muttered under her breath. The Doctor heard her anyway but he didn't reply, dampening down those pessimistic, resigned thoughts and ideas already forming in his head.

Slowly, the Doctor peeled her away from him, but still holding her close to him.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open again – and for the first time, he _noticed_.

The Doctor held Rose at arm's length, eyes urgently scrutinising her. He frowned, blinking rapidly – checking twice, just in case his eyes were deceiving him; they weren't. But it couldn't be ...

Oh no. Oh _yes._ This was bad. This was very, very, _very_ bad. Bad couldn't even _begin_ to describe how bad this was. There was just the one thing the Doctor was concerned about right now: this was bad. And not very good at all.

And the only thing that stopped his mind, from conjuring up whirlwinds of theories to convince him that what he was seeing was just an optical illusion, was the solid hard evidence in front of him.

"Rose, you're ..." He stopped mid-sentence, unsure how to continue. As if finishing his sentence through actions as an alternative, his dark eyes searched _for _her light, chocolate-brown ones. However, instead, all that the Doctor found were a pair of hollow, glassy white orbs devoid of any colour or life – and the exceedingly faint, circular silhouettes of once shining, beautiful, brown pupils were just about visible through the white emptiness. She was blind.

"You're ..." And he _still_ couldn't finish his sentence.

The Doctor was aware of the ever-so slight wetness pushing through the surface of both his scleras. Swallowing a small lump in his throat, he swiftly blinked back the tears. That was when his brain jerked back into motion again, the complex cogs of his mind turning rapidly, as his intelligence and instinct forced its way through the boundaries and determinedly shoved the Doctor's emotions aside for a moment.

The Doctor's face was instantly transformed into a picture of confusion. Rose was blind … Rose was blind. Rose – was – _blind!_ She was absolutely, positively _not_ blind before, but now ... _SHAZAM_: she was blind. How could that be possible? Exactly! It wasn't!

Even if the _Bad Wolf had_ projected herself via Rose's body, it still would've meant that she was only using Rose as the _host_ – just using Rose's image, so if Rose was blind before the Bad Wolf have been too. But, she – she being none other than pesky ol' Bad Wolf herself, of course - clearly _wasn't_.

That would mean that her blindness was an instant, a recent, a completely utterly _spontaneous_ happening. That was the thing: it was quite rather physically impossible to just _go blind_ in the space of – ooh, how long had he been "chatting" to Jack and Gwen for? - what, _two_ minutes. Then again, he knew better than _anyone_ and everyone in the entire multiverse – weeeeeell, _probably, _anyway - that nothing was impossible.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%**

"Doc," Jack yelled down his earpiece, at the said Time Lord, whose tall, wild mane of hair was visible over the tall, grey boilers, "we've got a Weevil at 2 o'clock!"

Panting slighting, Jack jetted after the Weevil, who was speedily hobbling away around fifteen feet in front of him.

"2 o'clock?" the Doctor's voice rang back out at him – if Jack wasn't mistaken, he sounded very nearly _shocked_. "But it's barely noon! More to the point, out of all of my one year, five months, fourteen days, thirteen hours, twenty-seven minutes and ... thirty-eight seconds in this universe, I have _never _had the pleasure of meeting a Weevil who lived at the numerals of a clock."

"_Doctor!_" Jack growled irritably.

"_Ow, _I wish you wouldn't do that. Not good for the ears – they are rather annoyingly human after all." The Doctor (.5) cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Ah yes, you were saying, Weevil."

Suddenly, Jack's ears were met by the sound of a silence, followed by the thick crackle of static and a gruff, distinct growl.

"Doctor," Jack sniggered, "I didn't know you 'ad it in you."

Despite his words, the Captain had the niggling suspicion that the growling had nothing to do with Doc.5.

"Jack, that wasn't me."

"Kinda figured. The neon pink-head I can see behind you _sorta_ gave it away." There was an uncomfortable silence, accompanied by another low snarl. "So … ya need any help?"

"I'd deeply appreciate it, thanks, Jack. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'm just going to … _RUN_!"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%**

Mickey leapt onto the raving Weevil's back and, with some difficulty, whipped the small "sugar" sack from his back pocket before he yanked it over the Weevil's bright pink head. And _that _was where Mickey knew that his whole plan had gone to pieces.

Digging long, sharp talons into Mickey's upper back as he struggled with the sack, the Weevil writhed and rived, obviously not giving up without a fight.

The thing was, Mickey was having problems stretching the rope-like material _over _the actual Weevil's inconveniently fat head. Mickey, too, wasn't prepared to give up without a fight. However, the young man's plan soon backfired on him as one of the Weevil's knife-like nails pierced through the wool of his jumper and right into soft flesh on his upper torso, lacerating the delicate layers of skin and leaving a dirty red gash. Mickey yelped in pain, instantly leaping off the Weevil.

Impatient, the Weevil made a half-hearted effort in wrenching the tight sack, that was trapping its head, off its face. However, the vicious yet particularly boneheaded beast only ended up pushing the material half way up its face, before it gave up, the material bunched up at its nose. The Weevil growled angrily, before whimpering. It scratched effortlessly at the sack that was shielding its eyesight, as if it would simply fall off its face by doing so. Howling, and stumbling around dementedly as it struggled to locate its bearings, the Weevil limped off speedily down the corridor.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

**A/N:- Someone must really, really hate me, because the past two weeks of mah life have been absomoosely JINXED to the max. (_JINXED, _I tell you!) And I can't seem to crop up any other plausible explanation. ;) Hehe. **

**SORREEEEEEEES, not muchio of Ianto in this chapter!**

**Been a-talking for the past couple of hours with **_**mon pally **_**who's moved up North , who I also haven't talked to since ****July ****… ****I seem to come up with a new excuse every time, eh? And surprisingly they're all true! Shortish, plot-straying chapter = an update tomorrow?!?!? If I continued this now, I would NOT get this chapter up at **


	30. Sober?

**A/N:-I am sooo dead, I know it! ****I can just about picture your angry faces – oh no, I got it wrong, it's those Magenta Kitkat-friendly Loan Sharks glaring at me. I KINDA forgot to repay my debts see … and I don't think I ever will have the money to… (SHH! Don't tell 'em that!) **

**I is sowwys. I keep finding myself distractions and Writer's Block and severe cases of vegetables and yummy cheese and Service Pack 3 and MSN and HPV injections and life and almost-practically-completely-forgotten-last-minute homeworks and … I'm just going to fill you with petty excuses, aren't I?**

**Me be shutting up now. I've Facebook and LJ and Bebo and MSN to do all ^THAT^ sorta rambling! Hehe! (Just tap me a PM if you want to add me on any of THOSE.)**

**Un-betaed to the highest catfish! :P**

**HI HO – on with the story then. **

**Disclaimer:****-****BREAKING NEWS: (START SCROLLING!)**

*****

…

**...**

…

_**Not far to go yet, young parsnip. XP**_

…

…

…

**WeepingAngel123 DOES ****NOT**** OWN DOCTOR WHO or TORCHWOOD!**

**OH, JUST ONE MORE THING; I PROMISE:- ****THANK YOU MUCHIOS FOR THE FEEDBACK! **

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Chapter 30 – Sober?

"Rose, you're …" He didn't finish.

Suddenly, he froze. The Dream-Doctor (very _literally _speaking, of course - ahem.) pulled me away from him in a violent fashion – was that worry and concern I sensed? – leaving me to make-do with the situation and steady myself by slamming my hands down on the spongy, springy material I sat upon.

_Being rude__ again_, I quipped mentally, an almost fresh memory of an encounter of Queen Victoria popping up in my head – I had very nearly forgotten about the whole "Walk of Life" thingamajig; every single memory of my life just seemed so much clearer now.

As brashly as he'd done before, his – dare I say it - scrawny hands were gripping my two arms again – tightly, might I just add, _very_ tightly. It was almost if … _oops_… he'd just discovered and noticed something rather concerning and shocking… like … my blindness. Rose + dead white and scaled over eyes = very surprised Doctor – Dream-Doctor even.

All I could "see" was a never-ending channel of black with the teeniest-tiniest hint of light seeping through, so I wasn't too sure if my hypothesis was right. I had the slightest suspicion that it was.

"You're …" he paused, and I could suddenly hear all the worry, anxiety, pain, hurt, concern, surprise, _confusion_ in his voice. And I was sorry. I wonder if this was how the real Doctor would react. It'd better be, or I'd hold a grudge against my mind forever. Oh well, I'd just have to endure the rest of this whacked-up dream … "You're …"

The "you're" trailed off into an uncomfortable silence that hung in the air like a layer of dust, yet his hands never slackened on their grip on my arms. I twitched uncomfortably. Suddenly, he jumped up in surprise and I followed suit.

"Hang on … Rose, you're _blind_?!"

His previous tone of voice - the one with the intense mixture of emotions - was compressed into one: pure and utter _confusion. _In fact, he sounded so confused, that it was almost a question. Smiling to myself, I imagined his facial expression right now – the classic extremely confused, considerably surprised and utterly fascinated look. I'd seen that confused look so many times before that I had no problems drawing up an image in my head. I could imagine those ancient, chocolate brown eyes wide - sometimes bespectacled, other times narrowed - and twinkling brightly initiating a penetrating gaze, deep creases etched into the flesh of his forehead, dark eyebrows raised and knitted together in bewilderment and that big mouth of his hanging open - but only ever so slightly.

"Took you long enough," I joked good-naturedly.

I had first-hand opted for a simple but sarcastically cheeky "_Really?_ I never knew!", but the sensible, sane and downright serious part of my brain reminded me that my Dream-Doctor had probably already been tormented enough, by the discovery of my ... "condition", so I'd settled for the said and spoken latter instead.

But it seemed to me, that even saying _that_ was a mistake.

"_Rose!_" he exclaimed. "This is not a matter to be laughing about. Y- You're _blind_! I mean, out of all the impossibles of and in the universe, you're blind_!_ You could've been deaf, you could've been lame, you could've been mute, you could've been paralysed, hell – you could've even been turned into a fifty foot squid-"

"-_ hey_! -"

"-but you just _had_ to be blind!"

"Alright, I'm a blind, I get it. S'no big deal, Doctor. This is just a _dream_ – _my_ dream."

"No big deal? Of course, it's a big deal, Rose – you're _blind_!"

"So, I've heard …" I sighed wearily.

I heard the familiar, low-pitched buzz of the Sonic Screwdriver, before I felt an uncomfortably hot heat directed unequivocally at my impaired eyes soon accompanied by the low-pitched (but irritatingly _loud_) whine of the Sonic. My other four senses seemed to have all opened up and became stronger somehow.

"It's strange, Rose. The Sonic's not picking up anything. It doesn't sense that something's wrong – when it obviously is – just like earlier …"

Wincing as the irritable noise rattled my eardrums and the heat radiating from the Sonic made my eyelids feel like they were on fire, I sneaked a hand up and batted the offending object away cantankerously.

"Stop. Please, just … stop," I said. "It hurts."

On hearing my petition, he stopped immediately. I sighed in relief, but my ears were still ringing from the noise.

"Sorry," he murmured, fingers rubbing the area underneath my eyes. I leaned into his touch slightly. Why did this feel so real? "Should've known – the impairing of one of a human's five senses is the strengthening of the others …"

Blanking out the mad ramblings that followed – which I suspected was caused by his worry, I dreamily drifted away into my happy land of imagination and daydreaming. I sunk back into the soft, plushy thing that I supposed was a pillow. Subsequently, I conjured up an image of the Doctor raking a hand through his hair – that was probably what he was doing now actually – that great, _great_ hair …

"-and that's the one thing – weeeell, one of the _few_ things – the Sonic Screwdriver can't fix or cure! And what makes it even more unfair is that I went out the room for a bare 2 minutes and 23.5 seconds, tops, and what do I get when I come in? A non-possessed Rose – a non-possessed Rose who just so happens to have turned blind in the space of 2 minutes and 23.5 seconds! How unfair is that? I turn my back for one second – OK, maybe a bit longer than a second - and _hey presto, _I turn back round; you've gone blind. And I know I keep repeating myself but I really do have to make this clear and-" I felt a cool breeze brush my face- "_Rose_? Rose, are you even listenin' to me?"

"Wha'?! I, er, yeah."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Hang on," his voice had miraculously calmed back down into something more down-to-earth and serious, "did you just say that this is all just a dream?"

"Mm-hmm," I replied casually.

I felt my mouth opening, and I was soon continuing the conversation, "I mean, I'm jus' gonna wake-up, or somethin', in a minute, so there's nothin' to worry about … I prob'ly won't remember all this either, anyway. You won't even exist, when this dream ends."

"Rose," the Dream-Doctor said seriously, "this isn't a dream."

I just laughed, cocking my head to one side. "Prove it."

"I can't …"

"_See_!" I retorted cheerfully, opposed to his sombre tone.

He didn't reply.

The atmosphere suddenly seemed to change; the mood shifted. I tensed, frowning, as my fingers dug mercilessly into the flimsy cotton sheets beneath me. My heart started to hammer. What if the Dream-Doctor was telling the truth? What if this wasn't a dream? What if this was all _real_? What if … what if this Dream-Doctor wasn't a Dream-Doctor after all but the _real_ Doctor himself? A whirlwind of "what if"s cropped up out of nowhere, filling my head with questions; until it felt like the darkness was spinning around me.

"This is real, Rose. All of this is _real_."

"Does that mean you're _real_ too?"

"As real as anything!"

I pondered this.

"Alrigh' then, Clever Clogs … If all this is real an' I ain't just dreaming, then answer me this …"- I lowered my voice, doing my best to hide the hurt in my tone of voice - "what 'appened to your 'this reality's sealing itself off forever' theory, eh? I thought all the parallel universes were sealed off for _good _– this time. That's what you told me before you left us all here, anyway. How'd you get 'ere then? Go on then."

"It's worth a try," the Dream-Doctor/Doctor muttered.

For the next few minutes, my ears were filled with the Doctor's elongated rambles of an explanation of how he did the impossible and crossed into another universe. I was all for believing him until …

"_Torchwood_?! They're here too?!"

"Yup!"

"As in, Jack Torchwood."

"Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Mickey – and even Martha! Ooh, and we met that nice friend of yours – Aryl, I think her name was."

Apparently, Torchwood were probably the main reason why the Doctor was even here - in this universe - in the first place. There was more complicated talk of a special knife "…that can cut windows into other universes", a Weevil called Janet, his sudden liking for coffee, Martha Jones, tinkering in the TARDIS and an obsessive woman called Suzie.

"Don't tell me," I chuckled sceptically, "Jack's also got a glove that can bring back the dead, as well, has 'e?"

"Weeeeell, I certainly wouldn't put it past him." He paused, then sighed resignedly. "Oh, alright, if you must: Jack has a resurrection glove that can bring back the dead. The _Resurrection Glove_ or _Risen Mitten_, they called it. But generally speaking, all the glove actually does it latch a simple psychic connection from the deceased to the wearer of the glove, by giving off a feed of blue neutronic kluegon energy, so the dead can come back to life for a certain amount of time. Very simple technology really."

"You're havin' a righ' laugh, you are!" I accused. "Not only 'ave you got a knife that can cut windows into other universes, but there's a glove that can bring back the dead too!"

I laughed harder, rolling onto my stomach and burying myself into my pillow. This was one heck of a dream. I mean, how crazy can one get? A _Life Knife_, a _Resurrection Glove_ … My brain was certainly doing a good job at making things up.

"You - are – _joking_," I said.

"… Why would I be joking?"

"You tell me," I replied cheekily. I deftly turned onto my side, feeling the small dip of the mattress as I moved; my eyes were still clamped shut. "There you are, you're doing it again."

"Doing what?" I could hear the confusion in his voice; I felt my grin broaden

"Joking."

"I can assure you that precisely 99.999999999% of my words are 99.998999% true and serious in _every_ way – and I am _not_ joking!"

"Yeah, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yeah … you are!"

"No … I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are!"

"Giving up?"

"_No_!" I said, just a little too quickly. "I mean, I jus' …" I paused, and then gabbled my next words with no care or precaution whatsoever, "don't see the point of initiating in such childish behaviour."

"You, Rose Tyler, just can't accept that I'm right and you're wrong."

"Shut up. And _I'm_ right; you know it."

"Are not."

"Am too."

"Are not."

"Am…"

The Dream-Doctor cut across my sentence.

"On second thoughts, let's not go down that road again."

"Yeah …" I agreed.

Ah, silence … and that meant we were going down the 'I'm-not-dreaming' thing path again. I _really_ didn't want to go that way again. Mad, as it sounded, I just wanted to believe that this all wasn't real. Because I didn't want to be blind, and I didn't want to face (or be anywhere near) the proper Doctor again, either. Not really, anyway; at least, not after the last time he left me.

"Rose Tyler, I am appalled!" he exclaimed suddenly. I jumped up in shock.

"You what?" I said, dazed.

"You've dangled from a barrage balloon in the middle of the Blitz, wearing the _Union Jack_ on the front of your shirt; you've ripped open the TARDIS console and looked into the Heart of the TARDIS, where nobody has ever dared to, and _survived­ ­_– _well_, all thanks to me of course; you've witness me regenerating; you've met the Prime Minister _and_ the President of England; you've been possessed by a talking piece of skin called Cassandra; and you've even met a Werewolf! And if that's not enough, you even _successfully_ built a Dimension Cannon to travel across different universes! Yet – all that information in mind - you simply _refuse _to believe that I'm just too clever for you and successfully managed to find a way into this universe, without dooming the entire Multiverse!" He paused for breath. "You're not buying this, are you?"

"Nope."

"There's nothing I can say to make you believe me, is there?" he breathed.

"Nope," I repeated, grinning.

"Absolutely, positively _nothing_ I can say to make you realise that this is _not_ a dream, or at least convince you otherwise?" he checked.

"Nope."

"Well then, you've left me no choice."

I frowned. Suddenly I felt the rustle of sheets and- "_Ow_!" I yelped, feeling the sore tingling of my arm. "You pinched me! Wha' was that all about?"

I hissed at him; I swung my arm out aiming to hit him, but I missed and ended up smacking thin air. Stupid impaired vision …

"Wha's that gotta do with anything?"

"You did say-" enter the innocent, adorable face of his -"that nothing I said would make you believe me. You never said about doing something to make you believe me. 'Pinch to see if you're dreaming – and if it hurts, you know you're not' - I believe that's how the old Earth saying used ta go. And unless I'm mistaken, I do believe that undignified shriek you gave me had something to do with that pinch hurting …" I could hear the mega-watt grin in his voice. "Now do you believe me?"

He was right; that pinch _did_ hurt and I _did_ feel the pain – and you weren't supposed to feel physical pain in dreams, right?

Thinking about it, judging from my past dream experiences, I can't really remember a time when I actually did feel physical pain in a dream. So, did that mean he was right and I was wrong?!

Whatever the matter, I wasn't about to let this last strand of hope go so easily.

So I stayed silent.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

**A/N:- Yeshity-yesh, me knows, me knows, it should REALLY be "Shareen and **_**I**_**"****but this **_**is**_** from Rose's POV after all. ;D **

**Cheese is good for you.**

**And so is a pwetty little review – do feel free to pressure me into doing another update. (I may or may not post one today, 'cos 'tis **_**mon pere's**_** birthday! There's been one hell lotta birthdays of friends and family this week! My eyes have been glued to this screen for five hours now, and I'm starting to hallucinate rainbows and milkshakes and pistachios and David Tennants 'cos my eyes are starting to betray me now into a state of tiredness and ze side-effects are starting to kick in again. So, me best be offs now.)**

**=D =D =D =D =D**


	31. Boys And Girls

_**A**__**)**_**/N: *sneaks back into existence on FanFiction* Weeeell, how do I put this?! TOO MANY SORRIES AND APPLE PIES AND HIGH FIVES AND RUBEUS HAGRID'S for not updating in a while!! And because of this longer-than-long wait, I give you all full permission to murder me. ;D Me suggests you read the last chapter again.  
****Could've actually gotten this chapter up in zeh morning**** and had another chance about two hours ago but, meh, 'tis a miracle how hard it is to use the computer in peace when mah mum's friends are round for the whooooole day. *grumbles* ;P**

_**B**__**)**_** :S Much chocolate chip cookies and apologies to **_**Taylor Harkness**_**; your Christmas prezzie is turning out to be a 29th-and-30****th-****December present. Sowwys for its lateness. :P**

_**C**__**)**_** Thankie you, bananas, batches of **_**Oreos**_** and spider pigs to **Taylor Harkness, **EleBother, **oddood,_**Elfprinzess**_** and **_novacancymind_** for ye latest reviews!!!  
And, of coursey, a biiiiiiiiiiiig thank you to **_**Recuva**_** for simply being the bestest 'data recovery' and 'undeleting' thingamajig ever invented. ;D Not to mention, **_**NO**_** thankie you at all to mah computer and Ameo for deciding to randomly go deleting most of mah files without telling me. :[**

_**D**__**)**_**isclaimer: Of course I own Doctor Who! Why **_**else**_** would I be here writing fanfiction and feeding off your loverly reviews, hmm? **_**XD**_

_**E)**_** Over 225 pages of all the rambling rubbish that is 'Allergies' in Word? o_O Wowzee. =P**

_**F)**_** WARNING: Despite the fact that this chapter has been rewritten 3, no, 4 times in an attempt to speed the story as a whole up and reduce the amount rambling and replace it with dialogue, there are still quite the sum of pointless rambles splattered across this page. Apologies. XD**

***goes off to ****read that rather promising looking magazine with David Tennant's face and LAST CALL FOR DOCTOR WHO SPOILERS splattered all over it 0_0***

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* * *

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Running. Running in the dark. Running through a cramped, dark maze of steam and boilers. Running left… then right… then left… then left again… then left yet again… then – surprise, surprise – left… then a right… _then _a running straight for a Weevil. Brilliant_. _Just… _brilliant_.

The clone Doctor skidded to a halt, just a few feet away from the Weevil.

It'd obviously thought things through, unlike him – who hadn't and had just run for it.

He quite missed running actually, so this was actually good practice. Having a proper 9 to 5 job at Torchwood (who'd've thought, _him_ doing the domestics…) which involved working off the hours identifying, labelling and researching alien artefacts didn't really give him much chance to do any running. Or cause _much_ trouble. Or stumble across any aliens or monsters.

_Weeeeell_, there was that one time when Alonzo had accidentally pressed a button on a piece of Bantrotroxian technology… and out popped a tiny, blue pixie-like creature.

And, yes, believe it or not, he had met _another_ Alonzo! Technically speaking, this was the _first_ Alonzo he'd met if he meant him personally, physically – as it was his original self who had actually, physically met the Alonzo on the Starfall Titanic. But he still had the memories and was virtually the same man – well, sort of – so he was going to class this Alonzo as the second Alonzo he'd met. Besides, if speaking theoretically, he was only, what, a year and few months old, for Rassilon's sake, and there really was no need for complications in a matter as simple as this and… oh dear, he was rambling now, wasn't he?

_Anyway__..._

This particular 'tiny, blue pixie-like creature with two heads' was otherwise known as a member of the Eixip species. And according to the massive database of information inside his great, big Time Lord brain, they were a pesky little race originating from the planet Galling in the Boggart galaxy who had a reputation for being… well… _pesky_. And annoying. And causing all sorts of chaos everywhere it went. Hmm… a bit like him actually. The causing chaos part anyway. A hectic game of chase ensued… which involved everyone in the department running around the entire floor – their HQ – like total idiots. There were lots of wiped computer files, broken bits of alien tech, plenty of shouting and scattered bits of paperwork in the process. Now _that_ had been _fun_.

Thinking about it, perhaps it was time for a department change… He'd heard the Fielding department's job involved an awful lot of running, danger and trouble, and, to be honest with you, he was getting… bored and restless of being _Researcher No. 23_ and spending day in and day out researching and sorting alien tech. Plus, he'd know _exactly_ what to do in situations like _this_ – the field agents dealt with all of this sort of stuff all the time.

The Weevil suddenly let out a guttural growl which revealed a set of sharp, yellowing teeth, snapping the Doctor out of his musings and back into the real world.

Much to his surprise, the Weevil had _not_ actually pounced on him, attacked him and killed him like the wild, pink beast it was – well, judging by the nasty injuries its accomplice had caused to one of the patients. Instead, it kept its distance and just… _stared_ at him.

Two, no, three theories popped up into his head: a) that old Earth saying was right, first impressions weren't everything, b) the Weevil was going to pounce and take a chunk or two out of him any second now, c) he was one very, very lucky person, or d) the Weevil had taken a shine to him and his charming looks, deciding not to hurt him. He just hoped that the correct theory wasn't _b) _because he'd not only lost (…dropped) the brown sack but the tranquiliser, torch _and_ earpiece too, meaning he'd no way to restrain the Weevil at all – or contact one Captain Jack Harkness or anyone else, for that matter.

Speaking of Jack, where _was_ Sir Flirts-a-lot anyway? He hadn't seen (or heard) hide or hair of him – not even a gunshot – for the past… ooh… five minutes and twenty-seven seconds (not that he was counting, of course). He was beginning to suspect that Jack had abandoned him and left him to fend for himself. Hmm…

Ah, he was rambling again – and not even rambling aloud, at that!

As if prompting him, the Weevil hissed a little.

"Oh! Hello there! Sorry about that, caught up in a bit of a ramble with myself. Tend to be zoned out whenever I am. Which happens _quite_ often. Very often. Very, very often. As often as often can be. More than often, even. I love a good ramble, me. Could talk for planet Earth, I could. In fact, I already have! And not many people can go round saying _that_. Weeeeell, I lie… _nobody_ else can go round saying that. Except Rose - spoke for the entire human race on Christmas day. Back in the other universe… where Weevils are orangey brown and _not_ neon pink – or so I've heard. Which reminds me, I really should be up there making sure Rose is OK and not down here talking to you. Saying that, you're not much of a talker yourself now, are you?"

The Weevil continued staring at him, apparently moving closer to him. The Doctor backed away, the Weevil followed him. He moved a little to the side and so did the Weevil. He shifted over to the right… the Weevil followed.

"An_**y**__way_! Where were we? I was just about to introduce myself, wasn't I? Well, I was planning to... Anyway, I'm the Doctor and _I _come in peace. And you are?" The Weevil didn't respond; the Doctor would've been _very_ surprised if it had, to be honest. "Oh well, I guess I'll just have to call you Steve or… Bob. Yes… _Bob_. What do you think? Yes? No? Well, I think it suits you perfectly! Bob it is, then!"

They were both slowly going round in circles now, much like wrestlers did in a wrestling ring. He could tell the Weevil was getting impatient, the reality that – unfortunately for him – _b)_ was most probably the right hypothesis dawning on him. And _that_ meant he had some serious thinking to do. If he had no tranquilliser, no sack, no torch and seemingly _no_ Captain Jack to jump in and save the day – not that he _needed_ any saving, of course - then what could he do? 'Cos something told him the Weevil wasn't just going to leave him alone. Think. Think Think.

_Aha!_

"A bit of a change of subject, but have I ever told you about Rome? Lovely place for holiday, Rome is. Especially Ancient Rome – been there twice, once with Rose and another with Donna. Have to say, both were _not_ very relaxing experiences. The complete opposite of 'relaxing', in fact. First shot at Rome with Rose was a bit of a downer. I was sent to do battle a lion in the Colosseum – weeeeell, get slaughtered by one anyway. However, as you can probably tell by me standing here, I survived. I bet you're just dying to find out how. No? Thought as much, but I'll tell you anyway. Well, it went something along the lines of _this_."

He raised his Sonic Pen. Sensing danger, the Weevil leapt. The Doctor pressed the button. The pink beast grabbed hold of the Doctor's sleeve. A low hum filled the air, within it holding a pitch powerful enough to affect the Weevil but not strong enough to affect the human – or half-human, half-Time Lord – ear. Almost instantly, the Weevil froze, dropping to the floor, unconscious. The Doctor just about managed to cushion its fall, grinning slightly – it looked like Weevils worked on the same frequency as lions too. *

And that was the moment when one Captain Jack Harkness decided to make his none too dramatic entrance…

* * *

Mickey jogged up the corridors, Gwen following, looking for any signs of the Weevil. It was nowhere to be seen. That couldn't be right. He'd just seen it a second ago. "Where'd it go?"

* * *

One handy hairpin and one badly fitted lock later, Jackie Andrea Suzette Tyler burst out the _Ladies_ toilets with a less-than-satisfied scowl on her face. The only thing she was even in the least bit happy about, this very moment, was that watching all those scenes in the films where they'd pick the lock to get out of wherever they were had actually came in handy. And who said TV was good for nothing!

"I'll have them Torchwood know, I can look after myself perfectly fine, thank you very much," she muttered darkly. All she'd wanted to do was see her daughter again, yet she'd been gabbled some nonsense about insects or weevils or something to by… Martha and Gwen and then pushed and locked in the toilets. _Charming_. Well, she was never going back in there again – she wasn't going to let them if they tried it again.

Jackie carefully fastened her hairpin back into her hair - but that was when she looked up and locked gazes with the hungry, dilated black eyes of a Weevil.

Screaming, she charged straight back into the toilets.

* * *

"…_There_," Gwen said, eyes widening slightly, head nodding in the direction of the feminine scream.

* * *

Ianto sat in front of the receptionist's computer, idly playing – and winning – a game of solitaire. For some reason or another, everyone else in the vicinity had decided to sit there and be completely silent, their ears being filled with only the sound of Ianto clickety-clicking the mouse and occasionally tapping the keyboard. A boy dropped his _Nintendo_; everyone stopped to stare at him.

Breaking the silence came a loud rapping at one of the doors leading to a stairwell. Well, it couldn't be Jack or the… other Doctor – they'd have knocked at the door going down to the basement/boiler room, not this one - and neither could it be Gwen and Mickey – he'd just spoken to them. He highly doubted it was the real Doctor and Rose, so Martha seemed the only possible person at the moment.

Alright, if he was honest, the knock was just a little bit too loud and a little bit too rough to be Martha, but since when did Weevils knock on doors? Since when were Weevils even _polite_ enough to knock? _Exactly_.

Ianto unlocked the door, inching it open.

"Martha! Long time no-" He slammed the door shut again. OK. Apparently, they were polite enough to knock at doors - weevils wielding fire extinguishers, at that. He leaned back against the door, listening to the Weevil's hisses as it banged the fire extinguisher against the door in an attempt to get it open.

"Jack," Ianto said, connecting with him via the earpiece, "we have a bit of a situation."

"_Well, so 'ave we: the Doctor's too scrawny to __lift up this Weevil," Captain Jack teased._

"_Oi!"__ protested the metacrisis Doctor. _

"_Anyway, continue."_

"There's a Weevil with a fire extinguisher behind one of the doors. And before you ask, there was a knock at the door… so I opened it. It _knocked, _Jack_,_ Weevils _don't_ knock as far I know."

"_But this one did, and you thought it was Martha?"_

"Yes."

"_Get in touch with Mickey and Gwen. 'Cos unless there's three Weevils on the loose, and not two, they haven't caught their Weevil..."_

"Tell Mickey and Gwen, got it."

He broke the connection, trying to link up with Gwen or Mickey's earpiece. Instead, his ears were greeted by another knocking. This time, it was coming from the hospital's entrance doors.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." He walked over to the locked doors. His eyes widened immensely. There, in front of him, a dozen men in black smash the glass of the doors and charged into the building, thundering past Ianto.

"In! In! In!" yelled one of the men in black.

The Torchwood of this universe, however, were apparently _not _polite enough to knock on doors.

"Don't look at me," Aryl said, hands up in surrender, walking in after them, "I tried to stop them. I only told them to come collect them, not raid the hospital…"

"How do you think they'll react when they find out there's only two Weevils?" Ianto mused.

* * *

"I'm warnin' ya, I'm armed!" a female shouted threateningly, fear lacing her voice, as she banged against the door. The familiar voice was coming from inside the _Ladies_. "I've seen worse than you! I've seen Slickeen an' Zybermen an' all sorts! S- So don't think I'm scared of you, you… big, ugly, pink _thing_!"

"Jacks?" Mickey called, stood next to the door. He exchanged a small glance of puzzlement with Gwen.

"_MICKEY_!" came a screech.

There was a clatter of metal hitting tiles and a door flapping open, followed by a blur of yellow and blue envelope Mickey in a big bear hug. Jackie pulled away from the embrace to look at him with wide, mascara coated eyes.

"'tsoitmust''m_so_gladyoucame!" she gabbled breathlessly. Mickey nodded slowly, having not understood a word Jackie had just said.

"Jackie, love, we need to get you somewhere safe, before the… ugly pink thing comes back," Gwen said, putting a comforting hand on Jackie's arm, obviously unaware of the 12 members of Torchwood storming in, guns blazing, taking 'care' of the situation downstairs.

"To hell am I goin' back in _there_!" Jackie protested defiantly, catching onto Gwen's motives. "It was bad enough when you locked me up in there last time."

"You could always go to Rose an' the Doctor?" Mickey suggested. "I mean, I dunno what's goin' on in there an' all but…"

"Come on then," Gwen said, smiling at Mickey's idea. "Let's get there quickly before pink-head comes back." She turned to Rose's mother. "Jackie, what room did you say Rose was in?"

* * *

"Jack! Just the person I was looking for…" the metacrisis Doctor said to Jack brightly, "_ten minutes ago_."

* * *

"Everything's going to be just _fine¸_ don't you worry," Martha assured, checking the heart monitor and making sure the patient was in a stable condition. "Just… go to sleep. The creature's been taken care of." She lied; she didn't know what was even going on out there. "I'll be right back."

Smiling reassuringly, she squeezed the patient and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She took off down the corridor, heading for downstairs to find out what exactly was going on because no one seemed to be informing her of anything.

* * *

**A/N:*****Any one who's read zeh Doctor Who novel, **_**The Stone Rose**_**, will know what in the name of HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm on about. ;D**

**This chapter was supposed to be, ooh, at least two and a half pages longer but I've edited it into the next chapter… which vill be**** up tomorrow. Being nagged and threatened away from the computer as I speak. D;**

**This 'fic and anything in a ten mile radius will spontaneously combust in the next few seconds. The emergency exits are nowhere, nowhere and… ****nowhere****. I hope you have enjoyed the read; any feedback can be given to the author via the green button below. Thank you and goodbye.**


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